FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF" 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D.  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE  LIBRARY  OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


Division 

gection         SCij) 

rm3 


COP.\ 


LYRA  INNOCENTIUM. 


LYRA 


INNOCENTIUM: 

THOUGHTS  IN  VERSE 

ON 

CHRISTIAN  CHILDREN, 

- 

THEIR  WAYS,  AND  THEIR  PRIVILEGES. 

*  Jesus  called  a  little  child  unto  Him,  and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them.' 


OXFORD: 

JOHN  HENRY  PARKER; 

F.  AND  J.  RIVINGTON,  LONDON. 

1846. 


"  O  dearest,  dearest  Boy  !  my  heart 
For  better  lore  would  seldom  yearn. 
Could  I  but  teach  the  hundredth  part 
Of  what  from  thee  I  learn." 

Wordsworth. 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

According  to  the  first  idea  of  this  little  work,  it 
would  have  proved  a  sort  of  Christian  Year  for 
Teachers  and  Nurses,  and  others  who  are  much 
employed  about  Children.  By  degrees  it  has 
taken  a  different  shape  :  but  it  was  thought 
advisable  in  the  Table  of  Contents,  to  mention 
in  many  instances,  with  the  subject  of  the  Poem, 
the  Day  to  which  it  was  meant  to  be  adapted. 


O  had  we  kept  entire  the  vow 
And  covenant  of  our  infant  eyes, 

We  too  might  trace  untrembling  now 
Glad  lessons  in  the  moonlight  skies. 

There  are,  to  whom  the  gay  green  earth 

Might  seem  a  mournful  penance  cave  ; 
For  they  have  marr'd  their  holy  birth, 

Have  rent  the  bowers  tJiat  o'er  them  wave. 
Where  underneath  Thy  Cross  they  lie, 

Mark  me  a  place :  Thy  Mercy's  ray 
Is  healing,  even  to  such  as  I, 

Else  wherefore  bid  us  hope  and  pray  ?     . 

What  if  there  were,  who  laid  one  hand 

Upon  the  Lyre  of  Innocence, 
While  the  other  over  sea  and  land 

Beckoned  foul  shapes,  in  dream  intense 
Of  earthly  Passion  ?  Whoso  reads, 

In  pity  kneel  for  him,  and  pour 
A  deep  heart-prayer  (0  /  much  it  needs) 

That  lies  may  be  his  hope  no  more. 


Vll 


Pray  that  the  mist,  by  sin  and  shame 

Left  on  his  soul,  may  fleet ;  that  he 
A  true  and  timely  word  may  frame 

For  weary  hearts,  that  ask  to  see 
Their  way  in  our  dim  twilight,  hour  ; — 

His  lips  so  purged  with  penance-fire, 
That  he  may  guide  them,  in  Christ s  power, 

Along  the  path  of  their  desire  ; 

And  with  no  faint  nor  erring  voice 

May  to  the  wanderer  whisper,  u  Stay  : 
God  chooses  for  thee  :  seal  His  choice, 

Nor  from  thy  Mother's  shadow'  stray  .- 
For  sure  thine  holy  Mother's  shade 

Rests  yet  upon  thine  ancient  home  : 
No  voice  from  Heaven  hath  clearly  said, 

1  Let  us  depart ;    then  fear  to  roam." 

Fray  that  the  Prayer  of  Innocents 
On  Earth,  of  Sai?its  in  Heaven  above, 

Guard,  as  of  old,  our  lonely  tents ; 
Till,  as  one  Faith  is  ours,  in  Love 


vm 

We  own  all  Churches,  and  are  owned. — 
Pray  Him  to  save,  by  chastenings  keen, 

The  harps  that  hail  His  Bride  enthroned 
From  wayward  touch  of  hands  unclean. 


Feb.  8,  1846. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

I.  Holy  Baptism.    1.  The  Most  Holy  Name 

(For  Trinity  Sunday}      .         1 

2.  New  Creation  (Septuagesima)    4 

3.  Guardian  Angels         .         .       8 

4.  Baptismal  Vows  (St.  John)     12 

5.  Sign  of  the  Cross        .         .     15 

6.  Death  of  the  New-baptized      18 

II.  Cradle  Soxgs.  1.  The  First  Smile  .        .     19 

2.  Children  like  Parents 

( Sixth  Sunday  after  Epiphany)  23 

3.  The  Lullaby        ...     28 

4.  Sleeping  on  the  Waters 
(Fourth  Sunday  after  Epiphany)  31 

5.  First  Waking 

(Monday  in  Easter  Week)  .     36 

6.  Looking  Westward 

(St.  Matthew)  .         .     39 


CONTENTS. 

Page 

Children's 

9.  Orphanhood 

.  152 

Troubles. 

10.  Fire    {Nineteenth 

Sunday 

after  Trinity) 

.  155 

11.  Punishment 

.  158 

12.  Penance 

.  162 

V. 


VI.  Children's        1.  Gardening  {Ninth  Sunday 

Sports.  after  Trinity)        .         .166 

2.  May  Garlands  (St.  Philip 

and  St._  James)      .         .  169 

3.  Sunday   Nosegays   (Seven- 

teenth Sunday  after  Trinity  172 

4.  Dressing  up   (Twenty-first 

Sunday  after  Trinity)    .   174 

5.  Pebbles  on  the  Shore        .  178 

6.  Bathing  (St.  Peter)  .  182 

7.  Enacting  Holy  Rites 

(St.  Matthias)       .         .185 

VII.  Lessons  of        1.  Vernal  Mirth    .        .        .190 

Nature.  2.  The  Birds'  Nest 

(Whitsun-  Tuesday)        .   192 

3.  The    Mother    Bird    with 

her  young  (Tenth  Sun- 
day after  Trinity)  .  195 

4.  Noontide  (Ascension  Day)  197 

5.  The  Gleaners  .        .         .200 

6.  Autumn  Buds 

(Advent  Sunday)  .         .  203 

7.  The  Oak 

(  Third  Sunday  in  Advent)  205 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

VII.  Lessons  of 

8.  The  Palm           .        .        .207 

Nature. 

9.  The  Waterfall 

(St.  Simon  and  St.  Jude)     209 

10.  The  Starry  Heavens            .  214 

VIII.  Lessons  of 

1 .  Isaac  on  Moriah 

Grace. 

(First  Sunday  in  Lent)      .  219 

2.  Song      of      the      Manna- 

Gatherers            .         .        222 

3.  The  Gibeonites           .        .  228 

4.  David's    Childhood    (Sixth 

Sunday  after  Trinity)        .  230 

5.  Elijah  at  Sarepta        .         .  233 

6.  Naaman's  Servant  (Eleventh 

Sunday  after  Trinity)        .  235 

7.  Hezekiah's  Display     .         .  237 

8.  St.  Joseph          .         .         .239 

9.  The    Boy     with   the    Five 

Loaves     ....  243 

10.  The  Mourners  following  the 

Cross        .         .         .         .246 

11.  St.  Andrew  and  his  Cross      249 

IX.  Holy  Places 

1.  Preparing  for  Sunday  Ser- 

and Things. 

vices         ....  252 

2.  Walk  to  Church          .         .  254 

3.  The  Lich-gate    .        .        .256 

4.  Obeisance  on  entering  Church  259 

5.  The  Empty  Church    .        .  260 

6.  Church  Decorations            .  262 

CONTEXTS. 

Page 
IX.  Holy  Places   7.  Church  Windows 

and  Things.  {All  Saints)      .         .         .264 

8.  Relics  and  Memorials 

{St.  Bartholomew)    .         .  266 

9.  Carved  Angels 

{St.  Michael)  .  .       .268 

10.  Church  Rites  {Second  Sun- 

day after  Epiphany)  .  273 

11.  White  Apparel 

'  I.  The  Chrisom       .  .  276 

II.  The  Sunday  Dress  .  277 

III.  Confirmation        .  .  278 

IV.  Priests  in  White  .  279 
V.  Choristers  in  White  280 

VI.  Bridal  White  .  .  281 
VII.  Penitents  in  White  .  282 
VIII.  White  upon  the  Altar     283 

IX.  The  Winding  Sheet        284 

12.  Redbreast  in  Church  .  285 

13.  Disuse  of  Excommunication  288 

14.  Disuse  of  Infant  Communion 

(  Thursday  before  Easter)     290 

15.  The  Offertory 

(St.  Barnabas)  .         .  294 

16.  Church  Bells       .         .        .299 

17.  Continual  Services 

{Sunday  before  Advent)     .  304 


CONTENTS. 


Page 

X.  Holy  Seasons 

1.  Christmas  Eve,  Vespers 

.  311 

and  Days. 

2.  Christmas  Eve,  Compline 

.  314 

3.  Christmas  Day 

.  318 

4.  Epiphany 

.  321 

5.  Purification 

.  324 

6.  Lent 

.  328 

7.  Easter  Eve 

.  331 

8.  Easter  Day 

.  333 

9.  Whitsun  Eve      . 

.  338 

10.  Whitsunday 

.  342 

11.  Octaves  of  Festivals 

.  345 

V.  Children's 

13.  Languor.    . 

.  349 

Troubles. 

ERRATUM. 
P.  233,  line  10;  for  bless  read  dress. 


LYRA  INNOCENTIUM. 


&    2£j3ii)  baptism. 

1. 

THE  MOST  HOLY  NAME. 

"  Baptizing  them  in  the  Name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost." 

Once  in  His  Name  who  made  thee, 
Once  in  His  Name  who  died  for  thee, 
Once  in  His  Name  who  lives  to  aid  thee, 
We  plunge  thee  in  Love's  boundless  sea. 

Christian,  dear  child,  we  call  thee  ; 
Threefold  the  Bath,  the  Name  is  One  : 
Henceforth  no  evil  dream  befall  thee, 
Now  is  thy  heavenly  rest  begun. 


Holy  Baptism. 

Yet  in  sharp  hours  of  trial 
The  mighty  seal  must  needs  be  prov'd  : 
Dread  Spirits  wait  in  stern  espial  : — 
But  name  thou  still  the  Name  belov'd. 

Name  it  with  heart  untainted, 
Lips  fragrant  from  their  early  vow, 
Ere  Conscience  yet  have  swerved  or  fainted, 
Ere  Shame  have  dyed  the  willing  brow. 

Name  it  in  dewy  morning, 
When  duly  for  the  world's  keen  fray 
With  prayer  and  vow  thy  soul  adorning, 
Thou  in  thy  bower  salut'st  the  day. 

In  quiet  evening  name  it, 
When  gently,  like  a  wearied  breeze, 
Thou  sink'st  to  sleep  ;  O  see  thou  claim  it — 
That  saving  Name — upon  thy  knees. 

Name  it  in  solemn  meetings, 
'Mid  chanted  anthems  grave  and  clear, 
When  toward  the  East  our  awful  greetings 
Are  wafted  ere  our  Lord  appear. 


The  Most  Holy  Name. 

Upon  thy  death-bed  name  it  : 
So  may'st  thou  chase  th'  infernal  horde, 
So  learn  with  Angels  to  proclaim  it, 
Thrice  Holy,  One  Almighty  Lord. 


Holy  Baptism. 


NEW  CREATION. 

Who  may  the  wondrous  birth  declare 
Of  Earth  and  Heaven  so  vast  and  fair  ? 
Yet  whensoever  to  Love's  pure  spring 
A  helpless  Little  One  they  bring, 
Those  wonders  o'er  again  we  see 
In  saving  mystery. 

All  in  the  unregenerate  child 
Is  void  and  formless,  dark  and  wild, 
Till  the  life-giving  holy  Dove 
Upon  the  waters  gently  move, 
And  power  impart,  soft  brooding  there. 
Celestial  fruit  to  bear. 

God  on  the  first  day  spoke  in  might, 
"  Let  there  be  Light,"  and  there  was  Light. 
So  o'er  the  Font  enlightening  grace 
As  surely  beams  from  Jesus'  face, 
As  when  in  Jordan's  wave  He  bow'd 
Beneath  the  hovering  cloud. 


New  Creation. 

The  second  day,  God  stor'd  on  high 
The  dewy  treasures  of  the  sky  : 
And  who  the  pure  glad  drops  may  tell, 
Reserv'd  in  yon  ethereal  well, 
Faith  to  revive  upon  her  wTay, 
Hope's  weary  thirst  allay  ? 

The  third  day  dawn'd  : — at  His  command 
The  rushing  waters  left  the  land, 
With  herb  and  flower  the  green  earth  smil'd,- 
So  art  thou  rescued,  Christian  Child, 
From  tossings  of  the  world's  rude  sea, 
In  vernal  peace  to  be. 

Bright  rose  the  fourth  triumphant  morn, 
For  then  the  sun  and  stars  were  born, 
And  the  soft  moon,  whose  chaste  cold  ray 
Tells  tidings  of  a  purer  day. 
Christ  in  the  Font  became  our  Noon, 
The  holy  Church,  our  Moon. 


Holy  Baptism. 

To  the  fifth  dawn  and  eve  belong 
Motion  and  life,  and  flight  and  song, 
In  watery  deeps  and  deeps  of  Heaven  :- 
Such  gift  to  thee,  dear  babe,  was  given, 
When  from  the  earth  He  bade  thee  rise 
To  greet  Him  in  the  skies. 

The  sixth  dread  day,  the  last  in  place, 
Dread  in  its  deeps  of  untold  grace, 
Moulded,  at  morn,  the  cold  dull  clay, 
Inspired,  at  eve,  the  quickening  ray  ; 
The  same  sad  morn  and  evening  mild 
Renewed  us,  earth-defiled. 

Thee,  awful  image  of  the  All-good, 
That  one  atoning  day  renew'd 
For  the  whole  world  :  the  fontal  wave 
To  each  apart  the  glory  gave, 
Washing  us  clean,  that  we  might  hide 
In  His  love-pierced  side. 


New  Creation. 

Thus  in  each  day  of  toil  we  read 
Tokens  of  joy  to  Saints  decreed. 
What  if  the  day  of  holy  rest 
The  sleep  foreshow  of  infant  blest, 
Borne  from  the  Font,  the  seal  new  given. 
Perchance  to  wake  in  Heaven  ? 


Holy  Baptism. 

GUARDIAN  ANGELS. 

"  Tell  me  now  thy  morning  dream." 
"  In  the  flowery  sweet  spring-tide 

I  beheld  a  sparkling  stream, 

Where  by  thousands  Angels  glide  : 

Each  beneath  the  soft  bright  wing 

Seem'd  a  tender  babe  to  bring, 

Where  the  freshest  waters  fell 

In  an  ever-living  well. 

Far  within  the  unearthly  Fount 

Showed  the  pure  Heaven's  steadfast  rays, 
Stars  beyond  what  eye  can  count 

Deepening  on  the  unwearied  gaze. 
Whoso  of  those  springs  would  draw. 
Wondrous  joy  and  wondrous  awe 
On  his  soul  together  rise, 
Starlight  keen  and  dark  blue  skies. 


Guardian  Angels. 

Round  the  margin  breath'd  and  bloom'd 
Flowers  from  Eden  :  far  below 

Gems  from  Heaven  the  sides  illum'd  : — 
But  nor  flower  nor  gem  might  show 

Half  so  fair  as  your  soft  charms, 

Who  in  your  own  Seraphs'  arms 

Here  are  wafted,  in  pure  vest 

Rob'd,  and  wash'd,  and  seal'd,  and  bless'd. 

There  one  moment  lay  immers'd 
Each  bright  form,  and  ere  it  rose, 

Rose  regenerate,  Light  would  burst 
From  where  golden  morning  glows, 

With  a  sudden,  silent  thrill, 

Over  that  mysterious  rill. 

Ne'er  so  bright,  so  gentle,  sweep 

Lightnings  o'er  the  summer  deep. 

In  a  moment  came  that  ray, 

Came  but  went  not  :  every  sprite, 

Through  its  veil  of  mortal  clay, 

Now  is  drench'd  in  quickening  light  ; 


10  Holy  Baptism. 

Light  wherewith  the  Seraphs  burn, 
Light  that  to  itself  would  turn 
Whatsoe'er  of  earth  and  shame 
Mars  even  now  the  new-born  frame. 

Through  the  pure  Heavens  now  at  large 

See  the  immortal  guardians  soar, 
Joying  to  behold  their  charge 

Purg'd,  wing'd,  brighten'd  more  and  more, 
As  the  strong  undying  spark 
Buoys  them  upward  to  God's  Ark, 
To  the  Throne  where  all  repair 
With  the  first  fruits  of  their  care. 

Ne'er  with  smile  so  glad  and  kind 
Welcom'd  God's  High  Priest  of  old 

Abraham's  seed  with  Abraham's  mind 
Offering  gifts  from  field  and  fold, 

Lamb  or  kid,  or  first-ripe  corn, 

Glory  of  the  Paschal  morn  ; — 

When  the  shades  from  Salem's  wall 

On  Siloah  deepest  fall  ; — 


Guardian  Angels.  11 

As  in  that  entrancing  dream, 

On  my  sleep -embolden'd  eyes, 
From  the  shrine,  the  approving  beam 

Thrill'd,  as  each  new  sacrifice, 
Each  new  living  ray,  each  soul 
Borne  beyond  where  shadows  roll, 
With  its  faithful  Watcher,  found 
Place  in  the  eternal  round." 

O  sweet  morning  dream,  I  pray, 

Pass  not  with  the  matin  hour  : 
Charm  me  : — heart  and  tongue  allay, 

Thoughts  of  gloom  and  eyes  that  lower. 
From  the  Fountain  to  the  Shrine 
Bear  me  on,  thou  trance  divine  ; 
Faint  not,  fade  not  on  my  view, 
Till  I  wake  and  find  thee  true. 


12  Holy  Baptism. 


4. 

BAPTISMAL  VOWS. 

O  happy  new-born  babe,  where  art  thou  lying  ? 

What  are  these  sounds  that  fill  with  healing  balm 
The  hallow'd  air,  of  power  to  still  thy  crying 

At  once,  and  nurse  thee  into  heavenly  calm  ? 

"  His  Bosom  bears  me,  who  on  earth  descended, 
Of  a  poor  Maid  vouchsafing  to  be  born. 

His  saving  words,  with  holy  water  blended, 

Have  brought  the  glory  to  my  prime  of  morn." 

Joy  to  thy  nurse,  more  joy  to  her  who  bare  thee, 
Lamb  of  that  Shepherd's  flock,  whose  name  is  Good 

As  He  hath  won,  for  ever  may  He  wear  thee, 
And  keep  thee  purified  with  His  dear  blood  ! 

"  Amen  :  and  therefore  am  I  sworn  His  servant, 
His  sacred  Heart  through  life  to  be  my  rest, 

To  watch  His  eye  with  adoration  fervent, 

Foe  of  His  foes,  and  in  His  white  robe  drest." 


Baptismal  Vows.  13 

O  blest,  O  safe,  on  God's  own  bosom  leaning  ! 

But  passion-hours  are  nigh  : — keep  thou  thy  place  : 
And  far  and  wide  are  evil  watchers,  gleaning 

The  lambs  that  slight  the  Shepherd's  fostering  grace. 

"  Nay,  I  will  drink  His  cup  ;  my  vow  is  taken  ; 

With  His  baptizing  blood  mine  own  shall  blend  ; 
Ne'er  be  that  holiest  charge  by  me  forsaken, 

The  dying  Saviour's  trust  to  each  true  friend." 

Well  hast  thou  sworn,  and  be  thy  warfare  glorious  : 
But  Saints  are  pure,  the  Church  is  undefiled, 

And  Jesus  welcom'd  from  His  cross  victorious 
A  Virgin  Mother  to  a  Virgin  Child. 

"  Then  ask  for  me  of  the  dread  Son  of  Mary, 
Whose  arms  eternal  are  young  children's  home, 

A  loving  heart,  obedient  eyes  and  wary, 
Even  as  I  am  to  tarry  till  He  come." 

Prayer  shall  not  fail,  but  higher  He  would  lead  thee  : 
His  bosom-friend  ate  of  that  awful  Bread  : 

So  will  He  wait  all  day  to  bless  and  feed  thee  ; — 
Come  thou  adoring  to  be  blest  and  fed. 


14  Holy  Baptism. 

"  'Tis  meet  and  right,  and  mine  own  bounden  duty. 

Good  Angels  guide  me  with  pure  heart  to  fall 
Before  His  Altar-step,  and  see  His  Beauty, 

And  taste  of  Him,  my  first,  my  last,  mine  all." 


Holy  Baptism.  15 

5. 

SIGN  OF  THE  CROSS. 

(See  the  First  Prayer  Book  of  Edward  VI. — "  Receyve  the  signe  of  the 
Holy  Crosse,  both  in  thy  forehead,  and  in  thy  breste."J 

Where  is  the  mark  to  Jesus  known, 

Whereby  He  seals  His  own  ? 
Slaves  wore  of  old  on  brow  and  breast 

Their  master's  name  impress'd, 
And  Christian  babes  on  heart  and  brow 

Wear  Jesus'  token  now. 
His  holy  Priest  that  token  gave 
With  finger  dipt  in  the  life-giving  wave. 

When  soldiers  take  their  sovereign's  fee, 

And  swear  his  own  to  be, 
The  royal  badge  on  forehead  bold 

They  show  to  young  and  old. 
Nor  may  we  hide  for  fear  or  shame 

The  persecuted  Name. 
Only  with  downcast  eyes  we  go 
At  thought  of  sin  that  God  and  Angels  know. 


16  Holy  Baptism. 

If  the  dread  mark,  though  dim,  be  there, 

The  watchers  will  not  bear 
From  spirits  unblest  or  reckless  man 

Unpitying  word  or  ban. 
"  Mine  own  anointed  touch  ye  not, 

Nor  mine  handwriting  blot. 
Where'er  my  soldiers  cross  your  path, 
Honour  my  royal  Sign,  or  fear  my  wrath." 

The  Shepherd  signs  his  lambs  in  haste, 

Ere  on  the  mountain  waste 
He  loose  them,  far  and  wide  to  stray, 

And  whoso  mars  their  way, 
Or  scorns  the  awful  Name  they  show, 

That  Shepherd  counts  him  foe. 
Fresh  from  his  arms  are  these,  and  sure 
We  read  His  token  here  undimm'd  and  pure. 

Fresh  from  th'  eternal  Arms  are  these, 

Or  sporting  on  our  knees, 
Or  set  on  earth  with  earnest  eye 

And  tottering  feet,  to  try 


Sign  of  the  Cross.  1 7 

Their  daily  walk,  or  newly  taught 
Grave  prayer  and  quiet  thought. 
The  fragrant  breath  of  their  new  birth 
Is  round  them  yet  :  avaunt,  ill  airs  of  earth. 

Ye  elder  brethren,  think  on  this  ! 

Think  on  the  mighty  bliss, 
Should  He,  the  Friend  of  babes,  one  day, 

The  words  of  blessing  say  : — 
"  My  seal  upon  My  lambs  ye  knew, 

And  I  will  honour  you  :" — 
And  think  upon  the  eternal  loss 
If  on  their  foreheads  ye  deface  the  glorious  Cross. 


18  Holy  Baptism. 


DEATH  OF  THE  NEW-BAPTIZED. 

What  purer  brighter  sight  on  earth,  than  when 
The  Sun  looks  down  upon  a  drop  of  dew, 

Hid  in  some  nook  from  all  but  Angels'  ken, 

And  with  his  radiance  bathes  it  through  and  through, 
Then  into  realms  too  clear  for  our  frail  view 

Exhales  and  draws  it  with  absorbing  love  ? 
And  what  if  Heaven  therein  give  token  true 

Of  grace  that  new-born  dying  infants  prove, 

Just  touched  with  Jesus'  light,  then  lost  in  joys  above  ? 


19 


££♦    Cradle  J^anss- 


i. 


THE  FIRST  SMILE. 

"Post  et  ridere  caepi :  dormiens  primo,  deinde  vigilans."—  August. 
Confess.  1.8. 

Tears  from  the  birth  the  doom  must  be 

Of  the  sin-born — but  wait  awhile, 
Young  mother,  and  thine  eye  shall  see 

The  dawning  of  the  first  soft  smile. 

It  comes  in  slumber,  gently  steals 
O'er  the  fair  cheek,  as  light  on  dew  ; 

Some  inward  joy  that  smile  reveals  ; 
Sit  by  and  muse  ;  such  dreams  are  true. 

*  For  this  Poem  the  Author  is  indebted  to  a  dear  friend. 


20  Cradle  Songs. 

Closed  eyelids,  limbs  supine,  and  breath 
So  still,  you  scarce  can  calm  the  doubt 

If  life  can  be  so  like  to  death — 
'Tis  life,  but  all  of  earth  shut  out. 

Tis  perfect  peace  ;  yet  all  the  while 
O'er  marble  brow,  and  dimpled  chin 

Mantles  and  glows  that  radiant  smile, 
Noting  the  spirit-  stirred  within. 

Oh  dim  to  this  the  flashing  ray, 

Though  dear  as  life  to  mother's  heart. 

From  waking  smiles,  that  later  play  ; 
In  these  earth  claims  the  larger  part. 

'Tis  childish  sport,  or  frolic  mirth, 
Or  the  fond  mother's  blameless  guile, 

Or  glittering  toy, — some  gaud  of  earth, 
That  stirs  him  to  that  merry  smile. 

Or  if  in  pensive  wise  it  creep, 

With  gradual  light  and  soberer  grace, 

Yet  shades  of  earthly  sorrow  sleep, 
Still  sleep  upon  his  beauteous  face. 


The  First  Smile.  21 

But  did  the  smile  disclose  a  dream 

Of  bliss  that  had  been  his  before  ? 
Was  it  from  heaven's  deep  sea  a  gleam 

Not  faded  quite  on  earth's  dim  shore  ? 

Or  told  some  Angel  from  above 

Of  glories  to  be  his  at  last, 
The  sunset,  crowning  hours  of  love — 

His  labours  done — his  perils  past  ? 

Or,  thought  of  trial  for  her  breast, 

Did  the  mild  spirits  whisper  then, 
"  From  the  Baptismal  Fount,  O  blest, 

Thou  shalt  be  ours,  dear  child,  again  ? 

"  Thou  shalt  be  ours,  and  heaven  be  thine, 

Thy  victory  without  peril  given  ; 
Sent  a  brief  while  on  earth  to  shine, 

And  then  to  shine  a  light  in  heaven. 

"  And  her  that  folds  thee  now  so  warm, 
And  haply  thinks  'twere  death  to  part, 

Her  shall  a  holier  love  inform, 

A  clearer  faith  enlarge  her  heart." 


22  Cradle  Songs. 

Blest  smile  ! — so  let  me  live  my  day, 
That  when  my  latest  sun  shall  set, 

That  smile  reviving  once  may  play 
And  gild  my  dying  features  yet : 

That  smile  to  cheer  the  mourners  round 
With  hope  of  human  sins  forgiven  ; 

Token  of  earthly  ties  unbound; 

Of  heart  intent  on  opening  heaven. 


Cradle  Songs.  23 


CHILDREN  LIKE  PARENTS. 

;'  Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God,  and  it  doth  not  yet  appear 
what  we  shall  be  :  but  we  know  that,  when  He  shall  appear,  we  shall  be 
like  Him  ;  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He  is." 

When  travail  hours  are  spent  and  o'er, 

And  genial  hours  of  joy 
In  cradle  songs  and  nursery  lore 

All  the  glad  home  employ, 

Full  busy  in  her  kindly  mood 

Is  Fancy,  to  descry 
The  welcome  notes  of  fatherhood, 

In  form,  and  lip,  and  eye. 

And  elder  brethren's  hearts  are  proud, 

And  sisters  blush  and  smile, 
As  round  the  babe  by  turns  they  crowd, 

A  brief  and  wondering  while. 


24  Cradle  Songs, 

With  eager  speed  they  ready  make 

Soft  bosom  and  safe  arm, 
As  though  such  burthen  once  to  take 

A  blessing  were  and  charm. 

And  ever  as  with  hastening  wing 

His  little  life  glides  on, 
By  power  of  that  first  wondrous  spring 

To  all  but  babes  unknown, 

Easier  each  hour  the  task  will  grow. 

To  name  the  unfolding  flower, 
By  plumage  and  by  song  to  know 

The  nestling  in  his  bower. — 

Oh,  while  your  hearts  so  blithely  dance 
With  frail  fond  hopes  of  earth, 

Will  ye  not  cast  one  onward  glance 
To  the  true  heavenly  birth  ? 

Will  ye  not  say,  "  God  speed  the  time 
When  Spirits  pure,  to  trace 

The  hues  of  a  more  glorious  prime, 
Shall  lean  from  their  high  place, 


Children  like  Parents.  25 

And  mark,  too  keen  for  earthly  day. 

The  Father's  stamp  and  seal, 
Christ  in  the  heart,  the  Living  Ray, 

Its  deepening  light  reveal  ?" 

Oh,  well  the  denizens  of  Heaven 

Their  Master's  children  know, 
By  filial  yearnings  sweet  and  even, 

By  patient  smiles  in  woe, 

By  gaze  of  meek  inquiry,  turn'd 

Towards  th'  informing  Eye, 
By  tears  that  to  obey  have  learn'd, 

By  clasped  hands  on  high. 

Well  may  we  guess,  our  Guardians  true 

Stoop  low  and  tarry  long, 
Each  accent  noting,  each  faint  hue, 

That  shows  us  weak  or  strong. 

And  even  as  loving  nurses  here 

Joy  in  the  babe  to  find 
The  likeness  true  of  kinsman  dear 

Or  brother  good  and  kind, 


26  Cradle  Songs. 

So  in  each  budding  inward  grace 

The  Seraphs'  searching  ken 
The  memory  haply  may  retrace 

Of  ancient,  holy  men. 

For  of  her  Saints  the  Sacred  Home 

Is  never  quite  bereft  ; 
Each  a  bright  shadow  in  the  gloom, 

A  glorious  type,  hath  left." 

And  by  those  features,  stern  or  sweet, 

Resigned  or  dauntless,  all 
Heaven's  keen-eyed  Watchers  use  to  mete, 

Which  mortals  holy  call. 

"  And  hark,"  saith  one,  "  the  soul  I  guide— 

I  heard  it  gently  sigh 
In  such  a  tone  as  Peter  sighed, 

Touched  by  his  Saviour's  eye." 

"  And  see,"  another  cries,  "  how  soft 

Smiles  on  that  little  child 
Yon  aged  man  !  even  so  full  oft 

The  loved  Disciple  smiled." 


Children  like  Parents.  27 

And  oh,  be  sure  no  guardian  fires 

Flash  brighter  in  their  joy 
Than  theirs,  who  scan  the  meek  desires 

And  lowly  lone  employ 

Of  maiden  in  her  quiet  bower, 

When  haply  glance  or  mien 
Reminds  them  of  the  lily  flower 

With  Blessed  Mary  seen. — 

But  as  when  babes  by  look  or  tone 

Brother  or  friend  recall, 
In  all  the  Parents'  right  we  own, 

Their  memory  blend  with  all, 

So  in  earth's  saintly  multitude 

Discern  we  Saints  above  : — 
In  these,  the  Fountain  Orb  of  Good, 

Pure  Listfit  and  endless  Love. 


28  Cradle  Songs. 


THE  LULLABY. 

The  western  sky  is  glowing  yet, 

The  burnished  Cross  upon  the  spire 
Gives  token  where  the  Sun  hath  set, 

Touch'd  faintly  with  its  last  dim  fire. 
Pause  on  thy  way  from  evening  prayer, 
And  listen  :  through  the  twilight  air 
Floats  from  yon  open  cottage  door 
A  soft  strain  warbled  o'er  and  o'er. 

A  maiden  rocks  a  babe  to  sleep, 

And  times  the  cradle  to  her  song  ; — 
A  simple  strain,  not  high  nor  deep, 

But  awful  thoughts  thereto  belong  : 
For  oft  in  holy  Church's  shade 
She  to  that  strain  hath  lent  her  aid. — 
"  In  thee  I  put  my  steadfast  trust, 
Defend  me,  Lord,  for  thou  art  just."* 

*  Psalm  lxxi.  1.   New  Version. 


The  Lullaby.  29 

Without  a  Psalm  she  breathes  her  strain. 

Lest  haply  ruder  ears  be  nigh  ; 
But  to  the  babe  her  sense  is  plain, 

In  that  half  word  of  lullaby. 
That  sound  still  varied,  still  the  same, 
To  him  is  as  the  Saving  Name 
Pronounced  in  every  tone,  and  strong 
To  guard  his  sleep  from  every  wrong. 

Angels  may  read  such  words  of  power. 

And  infants  feel  them  :  we  the  while 
But  dimly  guess,  till  in  His  hour 

We  see  the  Lord's  unclouded  smile. 
Then  spells  that  guarded  us  of  old 
Their  hidden  virtue  shall  unfold  : 
Charm'd  writings  are  they  now  ;  no  eye 
May  read  them  till  the  fire  be  nigh. 

O  awful  touch  of  God  made  Man  ! 

We  have  no  lack  if  Thou  art  there, 
From  Thee  our  infant  joys  began, 

By  Thee  our  wearier  age  we  bear. 


30 


Cradle  Songs. 


From  Satan's  breath,  from  Herod's  sword, 
The  cradle  where  Thou  watchest,  Lord, 
Is  safe  :  the  Avenger's  rushing  cry 
Is  like  a  sister's  lullaby. 


Cradle  Songs.  31 


SLEEPING  ON  THE  WATERS. 

"  And  he  was  in  the  hinder  part  of  the  ship,  asleep  on  a  pillow  :  and  they 
awake  him,  and  say  unto  him,  Master,  carest  thou  not  that  we  perish  ?" 

While  snows,  even  from  the  mild  South-west, 

Come  blinding  o'er  all  day, 
What  kindlier  home,  what  safer  nest, 

For  flower  or  fragrant  spray, 
Than  underneath  some  cottage  roof, 

Where  fires  are  bright  within, 
And  fretting  cares  scowl  far  aloof, 

And  doors  are  closed  on  sin  ? 

The  scarlet  tufts  so  cheerily 

Look  out  upon  the  snow, 
But  gayer  smiles  the  maiden's  eye 

Whose  guardian  care  they  know. 


32  Cradle  Songs. 

The  buds  that  in  that  nook  are  born — 
Through  the  dark  howling  day 

Old  Winter's  spite  they  laugh  to  scorn  : — 
What  is  so  safe  as  they  ? 

Nay,  look  again  :  beside  the  hearth 

The  lowly  cradle  mark, 
Where,  wearied  with  his  ten  hours'  mirth. 

Sleeps  in  his  own  warm  a'rk 
A  bright -haired  babe,  with  arm  upraised, 

As  though  the  slumberous  dew 
Stole  o'er  him,  while  in  faith  he  gazed 

Upon  his  Guardian  true. 

Storms  may  rush  in,  and  crimes  and  woes 

Deform  the  quiet  bower  ; — 
They  may  not  mar  the  deep  repose 

Of  that  immortal  flower. 
Though  only  broken  hearts  be  found 

To  watch  his  cradle  by, 
No  blight  is  on  his  slumbers  sound. 

No  touch  of  harmful  eye. 


Sleeping  on  the  Waters.  33 

So  gently  sluinber'd  on  the  wave 

The  new-born  seer  of  old, 
Ordained  the  chosen  tribes  to  save  ; 

Nor  dream'd  how  darkly  roll'd 
The  waters  by  his  rushy  brake, 

Perchance  even  now  defiled 
With  infants'  blood  for  Israel's  sake. 

Blood  of  some  priestly  child. 

What  recks  he  of  his  mother's  tears, 

His  sister's  boding  sigh  ? 
The  whispering  reeds  are  all  he  hear?. 

And  Nile,  soft  weltering  nigh, 
Sings  him  to  sleep  ;  but  he  will  wake. 

And  o'er  the  haughty  flood 
Wave  Ins  stern  rod  ; — and  lo  !  a  lake, 

A  restless  sea  of  blood  ! 

Soon  shall  a  mightier  flood  thy  call 

And  outstretch'd  rod  obey  ; — 
To  right  and  left  the  watery  wall 

From  Israel  shrinks  away. 


34  Cradle  Songs. 

Such  honour  wins  the  faith  that  gave 
Thee  and  thy  sweetest  boon 

Of  infant  charms  to  the  rude  wave, 
In  the  third  joyous  moon. 

Hail,  chosen  Type  and  Image  true    • 

Of  Jesus  on  the  Sea  ! 
In  slumber  and  in  glory  too, 

Shadowed  of  old  by  thee. 
Save  that  in  calmness  thou  didst  sleep 

The  summer  stream  beside, 
He  on  a  wider  wilder  deep, 

Where  boding  night -winds  sigli'd  : — 

Sigh'd  when  at  eve  He  laid  Him  down, 

But  with  a  sound  like  flame 
At  midnight  from  the  mountain's  crown 

Upon  His  slumbers  came. — 
Lo,  how  they  watch,  till  He  awake, 

Around  His  rude  low  bed  : 
How  wistful  count  the  waves  that  break 

So  near  His  sacred  Head  ! 


Sleeping  on  the  Waters.  35 

O  faithless  !  know  ye  not  of  old 

How  in  the  western  bay, 
When  dark  and  vast  the  billows  roll'd, 

A  Prophet  slumbering  lay  ? 
The  surges  smote  the  keel  as  fast 

As  thunderbolts  from  heaven  : — 
Himself  into  the  wave  he  cast. 

And  hope  and  life  were  given. 

Behold,  a  mightier  far  is  here  ; — 

Nor  will  He  spare  to  leap, 
For  the  souls'  sake  He  loves  so  dear, 

Into  a  wilder  deep. 
E'en  now  He  dreams  of  Calvary  ; 

vSoon  will  He  wake  and  say 
The  words  of  peace  and  might  :  do  ye 

His  hour  in  calmness  stay. 


36  Cradle  Songs. 


FIRST  WAKING. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Mary.    She  turned  herself,  and  saith  unto  him, 
Rabboni ;  which  is  to  say,  Master." 

"  Ye  who  wait  in  wistful  gaze 

Where  young  infants  lie,- 
Learning  faith  and  silent  praise 

From  each  pure  calm  sigh, 
Say,  'mid  all  those  beaming  glances, 
Starts,  and  gleams,  and  silent  trances, 
When  the  fond  heart  highest  dances, 

Feeling  Heaven  so  nigh  ?" 

"  Hard  it  is,  'mid  gifts  so  sweet 

Choosing  out  the  prime  : 
But  no  brighter  smiles  we  meet 

Than  at  waking  time, 
When  they  burst  the  chains  of  slumber, 
Chains  that  guard  but  not  encumber, 
And  glad  fancies  without  number 

Ring  their  playful  chime." 


First  Waking.  37 

"  Nay,  but  with  a  moaning  sound 

Babes  awakening  start  ; 
See  the  uneasy  eye  glance  round, 

Feel  the  beating  heart." 
"  But  the  watcher's  look  prevailing 
In  a  moment  stills  that  wailing, 
Eye  and  heart  have  ceased  their  ailing, 

Joy  hath  learn'd  her  part." — 

So  when  rose  on  Easter  dawn 

Our  all-glorious  Sun, 
You  might  see  Love's  eye  withdrawn 

From  th'  adored  One. 
Tears  that  morn  were  in  her  waking, 
Xow  again  her  heart  is  breaking  ; — 
Who  may  soothe  her  soul's  sad  aching  ? 

For  her  Lord  is  gone. 

Him  for  tears  she  may  not  see, 

Even  her  soul's  delight, 
Yet  full  near  to  her  is  He. — 

Say,  did  Hosts  of  Light 


38  Cradle  Songs. 

Ever  breathe  in  mortals'  hearing 
Tones  so  soft,  so  heavenly  cheering  ? 
"  Mary,"  was  the  word  endearing — 
Heaven  and  earth  grew  bright. — 

Lo,  the  Babe  spreads  out  his  arms 
Toward  the  Watcher's  face, 

Fain  to  hide  from  sad  alarms 
In  Love's  safe  embrace. — 

See,  the  Word  of  Grace  attending, 

Magdalen  full  lowly  bending. 

"  Touch  Me  not  till  mine  ascending," 
Is  the  Word  of  Grace. 

Love  with  infant's  haste  would  fain 

Touch  Him  and  adore, 
But  a  deeper  holier  gain 

Mercy  keeps  in  store. 
"  Touch  Me  not :  awhile  believe  Me  : 
Touch  Me  not  till  Heaven  receive  Me, 
Then  draw  near  and  never  leave  Me, 

Then  I  go  no  more." 


Cradle  Songs.  3V* 


LOOKING  WESTWARD 

"  God,  who  commanded  the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness,  hath  shifted 
in  our  hearts." 

Had  I  an  infant,  Lord,  to  rear 

And  mould  in  Jesus'  Law. 
How  should  I  watch  in  hope  and  fear 

The  first  deep  glance  of  awe. 

When  for  a  bright  and  conscious  gaze 

He  lifts  his  eyelids  meek, 
And  round  his  own  world's  little  maze 

Some  marvel  fain  would  seek  ! 

Bright  be  the  spot,  and  pure  the  ray, 

That  wins  his  steadfast  eye  ; 
A  path  of  light,  a  glorious  way, 

To  guide  his  soul  on  high. 


40  Cradle  Songs. 

O,  rich  the  tint  of  earthly  gold, 
And  keen  the  diamond's  spark, 

But  the  young  Lamb  of  Jesus'  fold 
Should  other  splendours  mark. 

To  soothe  him  in  the  unquiet  night 

I  ask  no  taper's  gleam, 
But  bring  him  where  the  aerial  light 

Falls  from  the  Moon's  soft  beam. 

His  heart  at  early  morn  to  store 

With  fancies  fresh  and  rare, 
Count  not  thy  jewels  o'er  and  o'er, 

Show  him  no  mirror's  glare, 

But  lift  him  where  the  Eastern  heaven 

Glows  with  the  Sun  unseen, 
AVhere  the  strong  wings,  to  morning  given, 

Brood  o'er  a  world  serene, 

There  let  him  breathe  his  matin  thought 

Of  pure  unconscious  love, 
There  taste  the  dew  by  Angels  brought 

In  silence  from  above. 


Looking  Westward.  41 

Yet,  might  I  choose  a  time,  me  seems 

That  earliest  wistful  gaze 
Were  best  to  meet  the  softening  beams 

Of  sunset's  glowing  maze. 

Wide  be  the  western  casement  thrown 

At  sultry  evening's  fall, 
The  gorgeous  lines  be  duly  shown 

That  weave  Heaven's  wondrous  pall. 

Calm  be  his  sleep,  whose  eyelids  close 

Upon  so  fair  a  sight  : 
Not  gentler  mother's  music  flows, 

Her  sweetest,  best  good  night. 

So  hastes  the  Lord  our  hearts  to  fill 

With  calm  baptismal  grace, 
Preventing  all  false  gleams  of  ill 

By  His  own  glorious  Face. 


42  Cradle  Songs. 


UPWARD  GAZING. 

M  And  whence  is  this  to  me,  that  the  Mother  of  my  Lord  should  come  to 
me  ?  For,  lo,  as  soon  as  the  voice  of  thy  salutation  sounded  in  mine  ears,  the 
babe  leaped  in  my  womb  for  joy." 

"Whence  is  the  mighty  grace, 
-.Mother  of  God,  that  thou  to  me  shouldst  come, 
Me,  who  but  fill  a  sinner's  place, 
A  sinful  child  hid  in  my  womb  ? 
Who  in  God's  sight  am  I, 
And  who  mine  unborn  boy, 
That  I  should  view  Heaven's  Spouse  so  nigh, 
He  in  my  bosom  leap  for  joy  ?" 

O  cry  of  deep  delight 
By  Aaron's  sainted  daughter  breath'd  that  hour  ! 
O  joy  preventing  life  and  light, 
When  the  Incarnate  in  His  Power 


Upward  Gazing.  43 

Came  to  th'  Unborn  !  even  now 
Your  echo  faint  we  feel, 
When  o'er  the  newly  sealed  brow 

Glad  airs  and  gleams  of  summer  steal. 

Oft  as  in  sunbright  dawn 
The  infant  lifts  his  eye,  joying  to  find 
The  dusky  veil  of  sleep  undrawn, 

And  to  the  East  gives  welcome  kind  : 
Or  in  the  morning  air 

Waves  high  his  little  arm, 
As  though  he  read  engraven  there 

His  fontal  name,  Christ's  saving  charm  : 

Oft  as  in  hope  untold 
The  parent's  eye  pursues  that  eager  look, 
Enkindling  like  the  shafts  of  old, 

Where  mid  the  stars  their  way  they  took  :* 
Still  in  Love's  steady  gaze, 
In  Joy's  unbidden  cry, 
That  holy  mother's  glad  amaze, 
That  infant's  worship,  we  descry. 

*  Virg.  JEn.  v.  525. 


44  Cradle  Songs. 

Still  Mary's  Child  unseen 
Comes  breathing,  in  the  heart  just  seal'd  His  own. 
Prayers  of  high  hope  :  what  bliss  they  mean. 
And  where  they  soar,  to  Him  is  known  ! — 
But  joyous  Mothers,  mark, 
And  mark,  exulting  Sires, 
All  who  the  pure  baptismal  spark 
Would  duteous  nurse  to  saintly  fires  : 

Stern  is  the  Babe,  and  lone  : 
Yow'd  from  his  birth,  unborn  he  seals  the  vow, 
And  ere  he  win  his  glory-throne, 
Vigil  and  fast  his  frame  must  bow, 
And  hours  of  prayer,  apart 

From  Home's  too  soothing  praise  ; — 
His  Saviour's  image  in  his  heart 
Increasing  while  his  own  decays. 


Cradle  Songs.  45 


CHILDREN'S  THANKFULNESS. 

Why  so  stately,  Maiden  fair, 
Rising  in  thy  nurse's  arms 
With  that  condescending  air  ; 

Gathering  up  thy  queenly  charms, 
Like  some  gorgeous  Indian  bird, 
Which,  when  at  eve  the  balmy  copse  is  stirr'd, 

Turns  the  glowing  neck,  to  chide 
Th'  irreverent  foot-fall,  then  makes  haste  to  hide 

Again  its  lustre  deep 
Under  the  purple  wing,  best  home  of  downy  sleep  ? 

Not  as  yet  she  comprehends 

How  the  tongues  of  men  reprove, 

But  a  spirit  o'er  her  bends 

Train'd  in  Heaven  to  courteous  love, 

And  with  wondering  grave  rebuke 
Tempers,  to-day,  shy  tone  and  bashful  look. — 


46  Cradle  Songs. 

Graceless  one,  'tis  all  of  thee, 
Who  for  her  maiden  bounty,  full  and  free. 

The  violet  from  her  gay 
And  guileless  bosom,  didst  no  word  of  thanks  repay. 

Therefore,  lo,  she  opens  wide 

Both  her  blue  and  wistful  eyes, — 
Breathes  her  grateful  chant,  to  chide 

Our  too  tardy  sympathies. 
Little  Babes  and  Angels  bright — 
They  muse,  be  sure,  and  wonder,  day  and  night, 

How  th'  all-holy  Hand  should  give. 
The  sinner's  hand  in  thanklessness  receive. 

We  see  it  and  we  hear, 
But  wonder  not  :  for  why  ?  we  feel  it  all  too  near. 

Not  in  vain,  when  feasts  are  spread. 

To  the  youngest  at  the  board* 
Call  we  to  incline  the  head, 

And  pronounce  the  solemn  word. 
Not  in  vain  they  clasp  and  raise 
The  soft  pure  fingers  in  unconscious  praise, 

*  See  Hooker,  E.  P.  v.  31.  2. 


Children's  Thankfulness.  47 

Taught  perchance  by  pictured  wall 
How  little  ones  before  the  Lord  may  fall, 

How  to  His  lov'd  caress 
Reach  out  the  restless  arm.  and  near  and  nearer  press. 

Children  in  their  joyous  ranks. 

As  you  pace  the  village  street. 

Fill  the  air  with  smiles  and  thanks 

If  but  once  one  babe  you  greet. 

Never  weary,  never  dim. 

From  Thrones  Seraphic  mounts  th'  eternal  hymn. 

Babes  and  Angels  grudge  no  praise  : — 
But  elder  souls,  to  whom  His  saving  way- 
Are  open,  fearless  take 
Their  portion,   hear  the  Grace,  and   no  meek  answer 
make. 

Save  our  blessings,  Master,  save 

From  the  blight  of  thankless  eye  : 
Teach  us  for  all  joys  to  crave 
Benediction  pure  and  high. 
Own  them  given,  endure  them  gone, 
Shrink  from  their  hardening  touch,  yet    prize  them 
won  : 


48  Cradle  Songs. 

Prize  them  as  rich  odours,  meet 
For  Love  to  lavish  on  His  Sacred  Feet ; — 

Prize  them  as  sparkles  bright 
Of  heavenly  dew,  from  yon  o'erflowing  well  of  light. 


Cradle  Songs.  49 


CHILDREN  WITH  DUMB  CREATURES. 

"  The  sucking  child  shall  play  on  the  hole  of  the  asp,  and  the  weaned 
child  shall  put  his  hand  on  the  cockatrice'  den." 

Thou  mak'st  me  jealous,  Infant  dear  ; 
Why  wilt  thou  waste  thy  precious  smiles, 
Thy  beckonings  blithe,  and  j  oyous  wiles, 
On  bird  or  insect  gliding  near  ? 

Why  court  the  deaf  and  blind  ? 
What  is  this  wondrous  sympathy, 
That  draws  thee  so,  heart,  ear,  and  eye, 
Towards  the  inferior  kind  ? 

We  tempt  thee  much  to  look  and  sing, — 
Thy  mimic  notes  are  rather  drawn 
From  feathered  playmates  on  the  lawn. 

The  quivering  moth  or  bee's  soft  wing, 

E 


50  Cradle  Songs. 

Brushing  the  window  pane, 
Will  reach  thee  in  thy  dreamy  trance, 
When  nurses'  skill  for  one  bright  glance 

Hath  toil'd  an  hour  in  vain. 

And  as  thou  hold'st  the  creatures  dear, 
So  are  they  fain  on  thee  to  wait. 
Blood-hounds  at  thy  caress  abate 
Their  bayings  wTild ";  yea  without  fear 
Thou  dalliest  in  the  lair 
Of  watch-dog  stern  ;  thy  mother's  eye 
Shrinks  not  to  see  thee  slumbering  lie 
Beneath  his  duteous  care. 

The  war-horse  treads  full  soft,  they  say, 
If  in  his  path  a  babe  he  see. 
The  tiger's  whelp,  encaged  with  thee, 
Would  sheathe  his  claws,  to  sport  and  play. 
Bees  have  for  thee  no  sting  : — 
They  love  thy  trusting  heart  too  well, 
That  mightier  guard  than  fairy  spell 
Of  old,  or  magic  ring. 


Children  with  Dumb  Creatures.  51 

( )h.  who  the  secret  powers  hath  traced, 
That  in  such  league  mysterious  bind 
The  gentlest  with  the  fiercest  kind, 
The  sheepfold  with  the  howling  waste  ? 
Is  it,  that  each  and  all 
The  living  sympathize  with  life  ? — 
That  sudden  movements,  though  in  strife, 
The  entranced  thought  recall  ? 

He  whom  the  burning  East  hath  bred, 
Wizard  or  sage,  in  day-dreams  wild. 
Might  say,  "Dim  memories  haunt  the  child, 
Of  lives  in  other  beings  led, 

Other,  and  yet  the  same. 
Xor  less  an  instinct  true,  though  blind, 
Dwells  in  the  soul  of  meaner  kind, 
Spark  of  past  hope  or  shame." 

Xay,  call  it  recollection  deep 

Of  Eden  bowers, — high  purity 

Beaming  around  from  brow  or  eye 
Of  infants,  waking  or  asleep  : — 


52  Cradle  Songs. 

As  in  old  time,  we  read, 
The  royal  lion  bending  low 
Did  Una's  virgin-glory  know, 

Her  guardian  prove  in  need. 

Of  homage  paid  in  Paradise 

To  Adam,  guileless  then  and  pure, 
The  broken  dream  may  yet.  endure 
Within  them — visions  vague  arise 
Of  a  Superior  Power, 
Discern'd  by  form  erect,  and  mien 
Commanding,  and  calm  purpose,  seen 
In  eyes  that  smile  or  lower. 

Thus  tender  babes  and  beasts  of  prey 
May  silently  each  other  mind 

Of  the  old  League  :  "  Let  man  be  kind 
And  true,  so  all  must  him  obey." 
Thus  giants  of  the  wood, 
Wild  elephant  or  mountain  bull, 
Beneath  some  quiet  stripling's  rule 
Stand  quailing  and  subdued. 


L 


Children  with  Dumb  Creatures.  53 

Who  knows  but  here,  in  mercy  lent, 
A  gleam  preventing  heaven  we  see, 
A  token  of  Love's  victory 
In  a  sweet  awful  Sacrament  ? 
Hearts  fallen  and  sin-born, 
Oh,  why  are  ye  so  fondly  stirr'd  ? 
For  bounding  lamb  or  lonely  bird 
Why  should  ye  joy  or  mourn  ? 

Ah,  you  have  been  in  Jesus'  arms, 
The  holy  Fount  hath  you  imbued 
With  His  all-healing  kindly  Blood, 
And  somewhat  of  His  pastoral  charms, 
And  care  for  His  lost  sheep, 
Ye  there  have  learn'd  :  in  order'd  tones 
Gently  to  soothe  the  lesser  ones, 
And  watch  their  noon -day  sleep. 

Lo,  far  and  wide  the  Love  o'erflows, 
The  Love  that  to  your  souls  He  gave 
In  the  regenerating  wave  ; — 

Both  man  and  beast  His  mercy  knows  : — 


5  1  Cradle  Songs. 

Nor  from  His  pattern  swerve 
His  children,  tending  lamb  or  dove  : — 
But  aye  the  choice  of  all  your  love 

Ye  for  His  Least  reserve. 

To  point  the  way  where  they  should  go. 
By  word  and  gesture,  o'er  and  o'er, 
Teach  them  untir'd,  all  courteous  lore, 
Hear  their  first  prayers,  so  meek  and  low 
These  are  your  arts  :  by  these 
Ye  in  the  fold  your  task  fulfil, 
And  the  Good  Shepherd  on  the  hill 
From  far  approving  sees. 


Cradle  Sowgs.  55 


10. 
LIFTING  UP  TO  THE  CROSS. 

•;  But  Jesus  answered  and  said,  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask.  Are  ye  able 
to  drink  of  the  cup  that  I  shall  drink  of,  and  to  be  baptized  with  the  baptism 
that  I  am  baptized  with  ?  They  say  unto  him,  We  are  able." 

Oft  have  I  read  of  sunny  realms,  where  skies  are  pure 

at  even, 
And  sight  goes  deep  in  lucid  air,   and  earth  seems 

nearer  Heaven, 
And  wheresoe'er  you  lift  your  eyes,  the  holy  Cross, 

they  say, 
Stands  guardian  of  your  journey,  by  lone  or  crowded 

way  ; 
And  I  have  mused  how  awfully  its  shadows  and  its 

gleams 
Might  haply  fall  on  infants'  eyes,   and   mingle  with 

their  dreams, 
And  draw  them  up  by  silent  power  of  its  o'er-shading 

arm, 
And  deepen   on  the  tender   brow    Christ's   seal    and 

saintly  charm. 


56  Cradle  Songs. 

Oft  have  I  read,  and  dreani'd,  and  now  behold  a  token 
true  ! 

A  maiden  from  a  distant  isle,  where  Faith  is  fresh  of 
hue, — 

Where  Memory  tarries,  to  reprove  our  cold  irreverent 
age, 

In  churches  set  like  stars  around  some  saintly  her- 
mitage ; — 

Where  old  Devotion  lingers  beside  the  granite  Cross, 

And  pilgrims  seek  the  healing  well,  far  over  moor  and 
moss, — 

A  noble-hearted  maiden,  from  a  believing  shore, 

Is  by,  to  see  Christ's  little  ones  Him  crucified 
adore. 

Upon  a  verdant  hillock  the  sacred  sign  appears, 

A  damsel  on  no  trembling  arm   an  eager  babe  up- 

rears, 
With  a  sister's  yearning  love,   and  an  elder  sister's 

pride, 
She  lifts  the  new -baptized,  to  greet  the  Friend  who  for 

him  died.* 

*  A  traveller  from  Ireland  witnessed  this  scene  on  the  Continent,  and 
described  it  to  the  Author. 


Lifting  up  to  the  Cross.  57 

Who  may  the  maiden's   thought    divine,   performing 

thus  in  sight 
Of  all  the  heavenly  Watchers  her  pure  unbidden  rite  ? 
While  fearless  to  those  awful  Lips  her  treasure  she 

would  raise, 
I   see   her  features  shrink,  as  though  she  fain  would 

downward  gaze. 

Perchance  a  breath  of  self-reproach  is  fluttering  round 

her  heart  : — 
"  Thou,    darling,    in   our   Saviour   niayst  for    certain 

claim  thy  part  : 
The  dews  baptismal  bright  and  keen  are  glistening  on 

thy  brow, 
He  cannot  choose  but  own  thee,  in  His  arms  received 

e'en  now. 
But  much  I've  sinn'd  and  little  wept  :  will  He  not  say, 

6  Begone  ?' 
I  dare  not  meet  His  searching  eye  ;  my  penance  is 

undone. 
But  thou  and  thy  good  Angel,  who  nerves  mine  arm  to 

bear 
And  lift  thee  up  so  near  Him,  will  strive  for  me  in 

prayer." 


:>s  Cradle  Songs. 

Or   chanced   the   Thorny  Crown  her  first   upseeking 

glance  to  win. 
And   the    deep   lines  of  agony  traced   by  the   whole 

world's  sin  ? 
Oh,    deeply   in  her   bosom  went   the   thought.   ;i  Who 

draw  so  nigh 
Unto  those  awful  Lips,  and  share  the  Lord's  departing 

sigh,— 
Who  knoweth  what  mysterious  pledge  upon  their  souls 

is  bound, 
To    copy   in  their   own  hearts'  blood   each   keen  and 

bitter  Wound  ? 
If  of  the  dying  Jesus  we  the  Kiss  of  Peace  receive, 
How  but  in  daily  dying  thenceforward  dare  we  live  ? 

•w  And  was  it  meet,  thou  tender  flower,  on  thy  young 

life  to  lay 
Such  burdens,  pledging  thee  to  vows  thou  never  canst 

unsay  ? 
What  if  the  martyr's  fire  some  day  thy  dainty  limbs 

devour  ? 
What  if  beneath  the  scourge  they  writhe,  or  in  dull 

famine  cower  ? 


Lifting  up  to  the  Cross.  59 

What  if  thou  bear  the  cross  within,  all  aching  and 

decay  ? — 
And  'twas  I  that  laid  it  on  thee  : — what  if  thou  fall 

away  ?" 
Such  is  Love's  deep  misgiving,   when,    stronger    far 

than  Faith, 
She  brings  her  earthly  darlings  to  the  Cross  for  life  or 

death. 


(),  be  Thou  present  in  that  hour,  high  Comforter,  to 

lead 
Her  memory  to  th'  eternal  Law,  by  the  great  King 

decreed, 
What  time  the  highly  favoured  one  who  on  His  bosom 

lay, 
And   He  who  of   the   chosen   twelve   first    trode  the 

martyrs'  way, 
Taught  by  their  mother,  crav'd  the  boon  next  to  Thy 

throne  to  be, 
For  her  dreams  were  of  the  Glory,  but  the  Cross  she 

could  not  see. 


60  Cradle  Songs, 

O  well  for  that  fond  mother,  well  for  her  belov'd,  that 

they, 
When  th'  hour  His  secret  meaning  told,  did  by  their 

promise  stay. 


"  Thy  baptism  and  Thy  cup  be  ours  :  for  both  our 

hearts  are  strong." 
Learn  it,  ye  babes,  at -matin  prime,  repeat  it  all  day 

long. 
Even  as  the  mother's  morning  kiss  is  token  of  delight 
Through  all  the  merry  hours  of  day,  and  at  fall  of 

dewy  night 
Her  evening  kiss  shall  to  her  babe  the  softest  slumbers 

seal, 
So  Thy  first  greeting  life  imparts,  Thy  last  shall  cheer 

and  heal. — 
Then,  maiden,  trust  thy  nursling  here  ;  thou  wilt  not 

choose  amiss 
For  his  sweet  soul  ;  here  let  him  dwell  ;  here  is  the 

gate  of  bliss. 


Lifting  up  to  the  Cross.  61 

Three    Saints  of   old  their  lips    upon  the    Incarnate 

Saviour  laid, 
And  each  with  death  or  agony  for  the  high  rapture 

paid. 
His   Mother's  holy  kisses   of  the   coming   sword  gave 

sign, 
And  Simeon's    hymn  full   closely   did    with   his   last 

breath  entwine  ; 
And  Magdalen's  first  tearful  touch  prepared  her  but 

to  greet 
With  homage  of  a  broken  heart  his  pierced  and  lifeless 

feet.— 
Then  courage,  duteous  maiden  ;  the  nails  and  bleeding 

brows, 
The  pale  and  dying  lips,  are  the  portion  of  the  Spouse. 


62 


Cradle  Songs. 


11. 


SICKNESS  IN  THE  CRADLE. 


"  A  Christian  child  in  pain  ! 
O  sad  amazing  thought  ! 
A  babe  elect  and  born  again, 

With  blood  of  Jesus  bought, 
That  never  yet  knew  dream  of  sin, 
Nor  throb  of  pride,  nor  will  unclean  ; 
Yet  faint  with  fever  see  him  lie, 
Or  in  strong  grasp  of  sinners'  agony  !" 

O,  mother  fond  and  wild, 
Stay  the  complaining  word  ! 
What  wouldst  thou  have  ?    Thy  suffering  child 

Is  as  his  Saviour  Lord. 
Or  ever  eight  brief  days  have  flown, 
He,  the  unstain'd,  must  make  His  moan, 
Must  taste  the  sacrificial  knife, 
Must  to  the  Cross  devote  the  tender  life. 


Sickness  in  the  Cradle.  (58 

Behold,  the  Virgin  blest 
Calls  on  her  Babe  to  wake 
From  His  sweet  slumber  on  her  breast  ; 

How  should  her  heart  not  ache  ? 
From  her  pure  bosom,  where  all  night 
He  softly  slept,  that  Maiden  bright 
Resigns  her  Well-beloved  at  morn 
To  shed  His  blood  ;  for  therefore  was  He  born. 

Pierc'd  is  her  heart,  yet  still  : 
For  why  ?  that  Mother's  love 
Is  one  with  His  Almighty  will, 

Chang'd  by  the  o'ershadowing  Dove. 
O  freely  then  your  treasures  yield, 
With  the  dread  Cross  so  lately  seal'd, 
Yield  to  the  chastenings  of  th'  Unseen, 
The  Saviour's  Presence-tokens,  sweet  as  keen. 


64  Cradle  Songs. 


12. 


ANTICIPATION  AND  RETROSPECTION. 

"  And  ye  now  therefore  have  sorrow  ;  but  I  will  see  you  again,  and  your 
heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from  you." 

A  fragment  of  a  rainbow  bright 

Through  the  moist  air  I  see. 
All  dark  and  damp  on  yonder  height. 

All  clear  and  gay  to  me. 

An  hour  ago  the  storm  was  here. 

The  gleam  was  far  behind. 
So  will  our  joys  and  griefs  appear 

When  earth  has  ceased  to  blind. 

Grief  will  be  joy,  if  on  its  edge 

Fall  soft  that  holiest  ray  ; 
Joy  will  be  grief,  if  no  faint  pledge 

Be  there  of  heavenly  day. 


Anticipation  and  Retrospection.  65 

Christ's  Passion  eve  fell  dark  and  drear 

Upon  His  faithful  few, 
But  brighter,  each  returning  year, 

In  memory  gleam'd  anew. 

And  loud  the  chant  of  hope  and  glee 

O'er  Adam's  eldest  born, 
But,  hapless  mother,  who  like  thee 

Her  travail  pangs  might  mourn  ? 


66 


Cradle  Songs. 


13. 


JUDAS'S  INFANCY. 


"  The  Son  of  man  goeth  as  it  is  written  of  him  :  but  Woe  unto  that  man 
by  whom  the  Son  of  man  is  betrayed  !  it  had  been  good  for  that  man  if  he 
had  not  been  born." 


Alas  !  that  e'er  the  pangs  of  birth, 
The  consecrated  throes,  whereby 
Eden  revives,  should  breed  on  earth 
Untemper'd  agony  ! 

Yet  sure  as  frail  repenting  Eve 

For  pardon  knelt  of  yore,  and  now 
Adoring  kneels,  there  to  receive, 
Where  all  the  world  shall  bow. 


From  fruit  of  her  own  favour'd  womb, 

The  peace,  the  home,  her  wandering  lost 
Sure  as  to  blessed  Mary  come 

The  Saints'  and  Martyrs'  host. 


Judas' 's  Infancy.  67 

To  own,  with  many  a  thankful  strain. 

The  channel  of  undying  bli— . 
The  bosom  where  the  Lord  hath  laid, 
The  hand  that  held  by  His  :— 

Sure  as  her  form  for  evermore 

The  glory  and  the  joy  shall  wear. 
That  rob'd  her,  bending  to  adore 

The  Babe  her  chaste  womb  bare  ; — 

So  surely  throes  unblest  have  been, 
And  cradles  where  no  kindly  star 
Look'd  down — no  Angel's  eye  serene, 
To  gleam  through  years  afar. 

Did  not  our  Lord  speak  out  His  ban, 

The  Christ  for  His  betrayer  mourn  ? 
"  Alas  !  good  were  it  for  that  man 
If  he  had  ne'er  been  born." 

Xor  may  we  doubt,  His  Mother  mild 
Upon  that  bosom  pitying  thought, 
Where  Judas  lay,  a  harmless  Child, 
By  gold  as  yet  unbought. 


Cradle  Songs. 

But  Time,  as  holy  sages  sing, 

When  earth  and  sin  have  waxed  old, 
A  direr  progeny  will  bring. 
The  last  foe  of  the  fold. 

Of  mortal  seed,  of  woman  bred. 

The  Antichrist,  they  write,  will  be, 
From  a  soft  bosom  duly  fed, 
Kock'd  on  a 'loving  knee. 

Hi^h  prpace  at  first  to  Judas  came — 

Who  knows  but  he,  the  Man  of  Sin, 
In  the  baptismal  wave  and  flame 
May  his  dread  course  begin  ? 

O  ye  who  wait  with  hearts  too  light 
By  Font  or  cradle,  fear  in  time  ! 
O  let  not  all  your  dreams  be  bright. 
Here  in  Earth's  wayward  clime  ! 

From  the  foul  dew,  the  blighting  air, 

Watch  well  your  treasure  newly  won. 
Heaven's  child  and  yours,  uncharm'd  by  prayer, 
May  prove  Perdition's  son. 


Cradle  Songs. 


14. 

THE  SAINTS'  INFANCY. 

"  And  all  that  sat  in  the  council,  looking  steadfastly  on  him.  saw  his 
face  as  it  had  been  the  face  of  an  Angel." 

Where  is  the  brow  to  bear  in  mortals'  sight 
The  Crown  of  pure  angelic  Light  ? 
And  where  the  favoured  eye 

Through  the  dim  air  the  radiance  to  descry  ? 
An  infant  on  its  mother  smiling. 
TTash'd  from  the  world  and  sin's  defiling, 
And  to  Faith's  arm  restored,  while  yet 
AVith  the  blest  dew  its  cheeks  are  wet. — 

There  Christ  hath  sworn  seraphic  Light  shall  be. 
There  eyes,  the  Light  to  see. 

He  who  vouchsafed  to  kindle  that  pure  glow 
Will  feed  it  day  and  night,  we  know. 
By  duteous  fear  of  sin 
Fann  d  into  flame  the  virgin  heart  within. 


70  Cradle  Songs. 

Till  once  again  at  Angels'  warning 
Heaven-gates  shall  part  as  clouds  of  morning, 
And  the  confirming  Spirit  pour 
His  glory  where  young  hearts  adore  : 
There  is  Heaven's  Light  ;  there,  if  true  Pastors  be, 
Are  eyes,  the  Light  to  see. 

And  what  if  there  some  favoured  one  should  kneel, 
Whom  in  His  time  the  Lord  will  seal, 
High  in  the  Mount  to  draw 

Light  uncorrupt  from  His  pure  fontal  Law, 
Then  'mid  his  brethren  bear  unknowing 
The  lustre  keen  within  him  glowing, 
But  veil  it,  when  he  feels  their  gaze, 
As  Moses  veil'd  the  Sinai  rays  ? — 

Blest,  who  so  shines  :  and  blest  the  thoughtful  few, 
Who  see  that  brightness  true. 

Wouldst  thou  the  tide  of  grace  should  higher  flow, 
The  angelic  ray  more  glorious  show  ? 
Wait  for  His  trial  hour, 
His  willing  Saints  in  His  dread  day  of  Power. 


The  Saints'  Infancy.  71 

Ever  as  earth's  wild  war-cries  heighten, 
The  Cross  upon  the  brow  will  brighten, 
Till  on  the  very  scorner's  gaze 
Break  forth  the  Heaven-reflecting  rays, 
Strange  awful  charms  the  unwilling  eye  compel 
On  the  Saints'  Light  to  dwell. 

Yes — strive,  thou  world,  in  thy  rash  tyrant-mood, 
To  slake  that  burning  Cross  in  blood  : — 
It  will  but  brighter  burn, 

As  martyrs'  eje>  near  and  more  near  discern 
Where  on  the  Father's  right  hand  beaming, 
Light  upon  Light  in  glory  streaming, 
The  Saviour,  felt,  not  seen,  in  life, 
Deigns  to  be  seen  in  that  last  strife, 

And  Angels  hail,  approaching  to  the  shore, 
Rays  like  their  own,  and  more. 

Who  knows  but  maiden  mild  or  smiling  boy, 
Our  own  entrusted  care  and  joy, 
By  His  electing  grace 
May  with  His  martyrs  find  their  glorious  place  ? 


72  Cradle  Songs. 

O  hope,  for  prayer  too  bold  and  thrilling, 
O  bliss,  to  aid  its  high  fulfilling  ! 
0  woe  and  wrong,  0  tenfold  shame, 
To  mar  or  damp  the  angelic  flame  ! 
To  draw  His  soldiers  backward  from  the  Cross 
Woe  and  eternal  loss  ! 


Cradle  Songs.  7»c 

15. 
THE  CRADLE  GUARDED. 

•  Whose  fan  is  in  his  hand,  and  he  will  thoroughly  purge  his  floor,  and 
gather  his  wheat  into  the  garner  ;  but  he  will  burn  up  the  chaff  with  un- 
quenchable fire." 

11  As  therefore  the  tares  are  gathered,  and  burned  in  fire,  so  shall  it 
be  in  the  end  of  this  world." 

The  Lord,  th'  All-gracious,  hides  not  all  His  Ire  : 
Through  the  dim  chinks  of  this  decaying  earth 

Gleams  ever  and  anon  th'  unwasted  fire, 

Startling  rude  eyes,  and  shaming  lawless  mirth. 

Even  in  the  joy  of  Harvest,  see,  His  Brand 
Over  the  chaff  is  kindling  ;  sheaves  for  food 

And  tares  for  fire,  He  binds  in  equal  band. 
At  vintage  time  His  robes  are  rolled  in  blood. 

His  Angels  and  His  Saints  cry  out,  How^  long  ? 

His  Little  ones,  full  keenly  are  they  bent 
To  right  the  fallen  and  redress  the  wrong, 

Full  eagerly  to  justice  run  unsent. 


74  Cradle  Songs. 

These  are  Thy  tokens,  all-redeeming  Lord  ; 

Where,  but  of  Thee,  learn'd  we  aright  to  name 
The  last  dire  prison  ?   Thine  the  dismal  word, 

Thine  the  undying  worm,  th'  unquenched  flame. 

Therefore  Thy  duteous  Spouse,  our  Mother  dear, 
Tuning  her  love-notes  to  the  Father's  voice, 

Is  fain  to  breathe  grave  warnings  in  deep  fear, 
And  say  to  Sin,  Hell  is  thine  hopeless  choice  ! 

The  strain  Love  taught  her,  she  in  love  repeats  ; 

Call  it  not  hard,  if  in  each  holiest  hour, 
'When  with  unwonted  joy  her  King  she  greets, 

With  His   own  threatenings  she  would  fence   His 
bower. 

Call  it  not  stern,  though  to  her  Babes  she  shew 
The  smoke  aye  glaring  o'er  th'  abode  of  ill ; 

Though  guileless  hearts,  even  in  their  vernal  glow, 
Hear  now  and  then  her  thunders,  and  are  still. 

Might  the  calm  smile,  that  on  the  infant's  brow 
So  brightly  beams,  all  its  deep  meaning  tell, 

Would  it  not  say,  "  For  Love's  sweet  sake  allow 
Fear's  chastening  Angel  here  with  me  to  dwell  ? 


The  Cradle  guarded.  75 

Was  not  the  purchase  of  my  quiet  bliss 
A  life-long  anguish  and  a  Cross  of  woe  ? 

( )  !  much  I  fear  the  mountain-path  to  miss, 
If  from  my  sight  I  lose  the  gulph  below." 

Such  lesson  learn  we  by  the  cradle's  side, 
Nor  other  teach  dark  hills  and  valleys  deep  : 

Wh^re  rude  rocks  fiercest  frown,  and  waters  chide, 
Tis  but  to  guard  the  green  mead's  lowly  sleep. — 

There  is  a  peak — the  raven  loves  it  well, 

And  all  the  mists  of  neighbouring  ocean  love, — 

Which  if  you  climb,  what  seem'd  a  pinnacle 

Proves  as  a  wide  sea-beach  where  cormorants  rove. 

Rocks  showered  at  random,  as  by  giant  hands, 
Strew  the  rude  terrace  : — heedful  be  his  eye, 

And  firm  his  step,  who  on  the  dark  edge  stands 
Beneath  the  cloud,  and  downward  dares  espy. 

"  What  seest  thou  there  ?"  A  thousand  feet  below, 
And  further  on,  far  as  the  mists  that  sweep 

Around  me  suffer,  dimly  trac'd  in  snow, 
Pale  forms  I  see,  reclining  on  the  steep. 


76  Cradle  Songs. 

Each  in  his  drear  ravine,  where  never  ray 

Even  from  the  cold  north-east  in  June  might  fall, 

They  sleep  in  silence  till  th'  appointed  Day, 

Nor  heed  the  eagle's  scream,  the  whirlwind's  call. 

The  wastes  of  vapour,  veering  round,  now  hide 
And  now  reveal  the  watchers  dark  and  vast, 

Which  by  each  awful  resting-place  abide, — 

Grim  towering  crags  : — who  there  his  eye  shall  cast, 

With  aught  of  sin's  sad  burthen  on  his  soul, 

Feels  he  not  like  a  powerless  child  forlorn, 
.  Over  a  gulf  where  flaming  billows  roll 

By  a  strong  outstretch'd  Arm  as  yet  upborne  ? 

O  surely  then  to  his  heart's  deep  is  brought  . 

The  prayer,  the  vow,  there  evermore  to  cling, 
And  sickening  turn  from  the  wild  haunting  thought, 

"  What  if  at  once  o'er  the  dread  verge  I  spring  ?" 

Retiring,  sure  he  to  a  warning  Voice 

Will  time  his  footsteps,  on  a  true  Arm  lean  : 

What  happy  vale  soe'er  may  crown  his  choice, 
That  awful  gulf,  those  rocks  will  be  its  screen. 


The  Cradle  guar  tied.  1 

Lo,  nestling  at  the  mountain's  further  base, 
And  guarded  by  its  terrors,  a  soft  glen  : 

Its  waters  run  a  golden  gladsome  race, 

Its  windings  hide  meet  homes  for  pastoral  men. 

Lord,  if  in  such  calm  bowers  a  rest  Thou  give, 
We  pray  Thee,  crown  thy  gift  with  Fear,  that  we 

May  in  the  shadow  of  thy  j  udgments  live, 
The  wrath  o'ertake  us  on  our  bended  knee. 


78 


i. 

TRUSTWORTHINESS. 

"  The  child  Jesus  tarried  behind  in  Jerusalem." 

The  cares,  the  loves  of  parents  fond 
Go  deep,  all  loves,  all  cares  beyond. 
Fain  would  they  read  the  good  and  ill 
That  nestles  in  our  silent  will, 

And  night  and  day 

They  wish  and  pray 
That  only  good  may  there  find  way. 

But  deeper  lurk  all  breasts  within 
The  secrets  both  of  grace  and  sin. 
Each  has  his  world  of  thought  alone, 
To  one  dread  Watcher  only  known. 

And  far  and  wide 

On  every  side 
Our  dreams  dart  on — no  earthly  guide. 


Trustworthiness.  < 

Glad  may  they  be  and  calm  of  heart, 
Who,  when  their  child  so  walks  apart, 
Seek  him  and  find  where  Angels  come 
On  Jesus'  work,  in  Jesus'  Home  : — 

Who,  out  of  sight, 

Know  all  is  right, 
One  law  for  darkness  and  for  light. 

If  in  pure  aims  and  deeds  and  prayers 
His  path  mount  high,  and  far  from  theirs, 
If  seeking  him  'mid  friends  below 
They  find  him  not,  what  joy  to  know 

He  hath  but  turn'd 

Where  Jesus  yearn'd 
To  be  ; — where  heavenly  Love  is  learn'd  ! 

Thou  who  didst  teach  Thy  Mother  dear. 
In  three  dim  days  of  doubt  and  fear, 
By  timely  training  to  foreknow 
Thy  Passion  and  its  three  days'  woe, 

Prepare  Thou  still 

Our  heart  and  will, — 
Our  friends'  and  ours, — for  good  and  ill. 


80  Early  Encouragements. 


2. 
SAMUEL'S  PRAYER. 

With  joy  the  guardian  Angel  sees 
A  duteous  child  upon  his  knees, 
And  writes  in  his  approving  book 
Each  upward,  earnest,  holy  look. 

Light  from  his  pure  aerial  dream 
He  springs  to  meet  morn's  orient  beam, 
And  pours  towards  the  kindling  skies 
His  clear  adoring  melodies. 

Some  glorious  Seraph,  waiting  by, 
Receives  the  prayer  to  waft  on  high, 
And  wonders,  as  he  soars,  to  read 
More  than  we  know,  and  all  we  need. 

More  than  we  know,  and  all  we  need, 
Is  in  young  children's  prayer  and  creed. 
They,  for  their  Home,  before  Him  fall. 
He,  for  His  Church,  receives  their  call. 


j 


SamueVs  Prayer.  81 

They  cry  with  simple  voice  and  clear, 
"  Bless  Father,  Mother,  Brethren  dear  :" 
He  for  the  Priests  of  His  dread  Son 
Accounts  the  blessing  ask'd  and  won. 

For  holy  Priests  and  Matrons  mild, 
For  penitents  and  undefiled, 
For  dying  Saints,  for  babes  new-born, 
He  takes  their  offering,  eve  and  morn. 

He  gives  the  frail  and  feeble  tongue 
A  doom  to  speak  on  sin  and  wrong  ; 
Unconscious  they  stern  lightnings  aim, 
When  His  ten  Precepts  they  proclaim. 

Thus  in  the  Tabernacle  shade 
At  morn  and  eve  young  Samuel  pray'd, 
Nor  knew  his  prayer  God's  ark  should  win, 
Forfeit  by  priest's  and  people's  sin. 

To  Eli  thus  dread  words  he  spake  : — 
Ye  hearts  profane,  with  penance  ache  ; — 
A  wondrous  peal  o'er  Israel  rung, 
Heaven's  thunder  from  a  child's  meek  tongue. 


82  Early  Encouragements. 

3. 

PRAYER  AT  HOME  AND  IN  CHURCH. 

"  These  all  continued  with  one  accord  in  prayer  and  supplication, 
with  the  women,  and  Mary  the  Mother  of  Jesus,  and  with  his  brethren." 

Where  are  the  homes  of  Paschal  Mirth, 
The  bowers  where  heavenly  Joy  may  rest  her  wings 
on  earth, 
And  at  her  leisure  gaze  adoring 
Where  out  of  sight  the  golden  clouds  are  soaring 
Beneath  the  ascending  Saviour's  Feet  ? 
Where  may  rejoicing  Love  retreat 
To  frame  a  melody  for  His  returning  meet  ? 

Two  homes  we  know  of  Love's  resort, 
One  in  the  upper  room,  one  in  the  Temple  court  ; 
In  glorious  Sion  both,  possessing 
Alike  her  presence,  whom  the  awful  blessing 
Lifted  above  all  Adam's  race  : — 
The  royal  Twelve  are  there  in  place  ; 
Women  and   duteous    friends,  awaiting    His    high 
grace. 


'! 


Prayer  at  Home  and  in  Church.  83 

Two  Homes  for  us  His  Love  hath  found, 
One  by  our  quiet  couch  and  one  in  holy  ground. 
There  in  due  season  meekly  kneeling 

Learn  we  our  lesson  ere  His  last  revealing. 
The  Mother  of  our  Lord  is  there, 
And  Saints  are  breathing  hallow'd  air, 

Living  and  dead,  to  waft  on  high  our  feeble  prayer. 

And  with  His  Mother  and  His  Saints 
He  watches  by,  who  loves  the  prayer  that  never  faints. 
Avaunt,  ill  thoughts  and  thoughts  of  folly  ! 
Where  christen'd  infants  sport,  that  floor  is  holy  : 
Holier  the  station  where  they  bow, 
Adoring  Him  with  daily  vow, 
Till   He  with  ampler  grace  their  youthful  hearts 
endow. 


84  Early  Encouragements. 

4. 

SELF-EXAMINATION. 

"  And  he,  trembling  and  astonished,  said,  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have 
me  to  do  ?  And  the  Lord  said  unto  him,  Arise,  and  go  into  the  city,  and  it 
shall  be  told  thee  what  thou  must  do." 

"  What  wouldst  thou  have  me  do,  O  Lord  ?" 

Darkling  he  spoke  and  lowly  laid, 
With  all  his  heart  'he  spake  the  word, 

The  awful  Voice  mild  answer  made  : 
"  Go,  seek  one  out  .who  thee  may  bring 
Where  healing,  holy  waters  spring, 
Then  will  I  show  thee  speedily 
What  burthen  thou  must  bear  for  Me." 

"  What  wouldst  thou  have  me  do,  0  Lord  ?" 

Each  morn  and  eve  we  seem  to  say, 
And  He  gives  back  no  doubtful  word  : 

(i  Remember,  little  child,  all  day, 
Thine  early  vows,  the  hallow'd  wave 
Where  Jesus  first  His  blessing  gave  : 
There  stoop,  there  cleanse  thee  every  hour  : 
Christ's  Laver  hath  refreshing  power." 


Self -Examination . 

"  What  wouldst  Thou  have  me  do,  0  Lord  ?" 
Rise,  little  child,  and  onward  go, 

Where  Saints  are  met  with  one  accord 
The  praises  of  high  God  to  show. 

In  meekness  learn  their  prayer  and  song, 

Do  as  they  do,  and  thou  ere  long 

Shalt  see  the  wonders  they  behold 

In  heavenly  books  and  creeds  of  old. 

"  What  wouldst  Thou  have  me  do,  O  Lord  ?" 

So  whispering,  Saul  with  prostrate  brow 
The  persecuted  One  adored, 

So  breathed  his  earliest  Christian  vow. 
Stern  the  reply  : — to  fast  alone, 
And  in  the  darkness  make  his  moan. 
Thrice  set  and  rose  the  weary  day, 
Ere  with  the  Christians  he  might  pray. 

"  Winn  wouldst  Thou  have  me  do,  0  Lord  ?" 
Think,  little  child  ;  thy  conscience  try, 

Rebellious  deed  and  idle  word, 

And  selfish  thought  and  envious  eye  : — 


86  Early  Encouragements. 

Hast  thou  no  mark  of  these  ?  and  yet 
Full  in  thy  sight  His  Law  was  set. 
O,  if  He  joy'd  the  Cross  to  bear, 
With  patience  take  thy  little  share. 


Early  Encouragements. 


CONFESSION. 

•;  And  they  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  God  walking  in  the  garden  in 
the  cool  of  the  day  :  and  Adam  and  his  wife  hid  themselves  from  the 
presence  of  the  Lord  God  amongst  the  trees  of  the  garden." 

Didst  thou  not  hear  how  soft  the  day-wind  sighed, 
How  from  afar  that  sweeping  breath  it  drew. 

Waved  the  light  rustling  branches  far  and  wide, 
Then  died  away,  then  rose  and  moaned  anew  ? 

Sure  if  aright  our  morning  prayers  were  said, 
We  in  those  tones  the  Almighty's  unseen  walk 

Shall  hear,  nor  vainly  shun  the  Presence  dread, 
Which  comes  in  mercy  with  our  souls  to  talk. 

"  Where  art  thou,  child  of  earth  ?"  He  seems  to  say. 

"  Why  hide  so  deep  from  Love's  all-seeing  eye  ?" — 
"  I  heard  and  feared,  for  I  have  sinned  to-day." — 

'•  What  ?  know'st  thou  not  the  Almighty  One  was  by  ? 


88  Early  Encouragements . 

;'  Think'st  thou  to  lurk  in  yonder  wavering  boughs, 
Where  even  these  earthly  sunbeams  glide  and  steal  ? 

Nay,  speed  thee  forth  while  yet  high  grace  allows, 
Lay  bare  thy  wounds  to  Him  who  waits  to  heal. 

"  They  only  rankle  in  th'  unwholesome  shade  ; 

But  sun  and  air  have  soothing  power,  and  He 
Yearns  to  forgive,  when  hearts  are  lowly  laid. 

Even  now  behold  His  robe  prepared  for  thee. 

"  These  fluttering  leaves  the  more  unveil  thy  shame. 

Fall  humbly  down,  and  hide  thine  eyes  in  dust  : 
He  will  upraise  thee,  for  His  own  great  Name  ; 

His  penance  garb  will  make  and  show  thee  just." 


Early  Encouragements.  89 


TELL  THY  MOTHER. 

;  Ye  are  not  straitened  in  us.  but  ye  are  straitened  in  your  own  bowels.' 

Weary  soul  and  burthened  sore, 

Labouring  with  thy  secret  load, 
Fear  not  all  thy  grief  to  pour 

In  this  heart,  true  Love's  abode. 

Think  not  all  is  hidden  quite  : 

Mothers'  ears  are  keen  to  hear, 
Mothers'  eyes  are  quick  as  light, 

Glancing  wide  and  watching  near. 

I  with  boding  anguish  read 

Half  your  tale  ere  ye  begin  : 
Bitter  drops  in  heart  I  bleed, 

Penance  for  your  shame  and  sin. 


90  Early  Encouragements, 

Grudge  not  thou  thine  eyes  to  hide 
On  this  breast  that  aches  for  thee  : 

Patient,  kneeling,  here  abide 
Till  th'  absolving  Voice  is  free. 

I  from  thy  baptismal  hour 

Yearn  for  thee,  hard  heart  and  dry 
Seek  my  penitential  bower, 

In  the  dust  beside  me  lie.  . 


Early  Encouragements.  91 


ABSOLUTION. 

'•  Whose  sins  ye  forgive,  they  are  forgiven." 

Live  ever  in  my  heart,  sweet  awful  hour, 
When  prostrate  in  my  sin  and  shame  I  lay, 

And  heard  the  absolving  accents  fall  with  power, 
As  soft,  as  keen,  as  lambent  lightnings  play. 

And  sure  with  lightning  glance  they  seem'd  to  thrill, 
(O  may  the  dream  prove  true  !)    and   search  and 
burn 

Each  foul  dark  corner  of  my  lawless  will. 

What  if  the  Spirit  griev'd  did  then  return  ? — 

O  fear,  O  joy  to  think  ! — and  what  if  yet, 

In  some  far  moment  of  eternity, 
The  lore  of  evil  I  may  quite  forget, 

And  with  the  pure  in  heart  my  portion  be  ? 

Live  in  my  heart,  dread  blissful  hope,  to  tame 
The  haughty  brow,  to  curb  the  unchastened  eye, 

And  shape  to  deeds  of  good  each  wavering  aim  ; 
O  teach  me  some  true  penance  ere  I  die  ! 


J 2  Early  Encouragements. 


HOURS  OF  PRAYER. 

"  Evening,  and  morning,  and  at  noonday  will  I  pray.'- 

Down,  slothful  heart  !  how  darest  thou  say. 
"  Call  not  so  oft  to  pray  T 

Behold,  the  Lord's  own  bounteous  showers 
Keep  their  appointed  hours. 

The  forenoon  saw  the  Spirit  first 

On  orphan'd  Saints  in  glory  burst  ; 

At  noontide  hour  Saint  Peter  saw 
The  sheet  let  down,  heavenward  all  earth  to  draw 
At  eventide,  when  good  Cornelius  kneel'd 
Upon  his  fasting  day,  an  Angel  shone  revealed, 

Untired  is  He  in  mercy's  task. 

Then  tire  not  thou  to  ask. 
He  says  not,  "  Yesterday  I  gave. 
Wilt  thou  for  ever  crave  ?" 


Hours  of  Prayer.  93 

He  every  moment  waits  to  give, 

Watch  thou  unwearied  to  receive. 

Thine  Hours  of  Prayer,  upon  the  Cross 
To  Him  were  hours  of  woe  and  shame  and  loss  ; 
Scourging  at  morn  ;  at  noon,  pierced  hands  and  feet  ; 
At  eve,  fierce  pains  of  death,  for  thee  He  counted 
sweet. 

The  blue  sky  o'er  the  green  earth  bends, 

All  night  the  dew  descends  : 
The  green  earth  to  the  blue  heaven's  ray 

Its  bosom  spreads  all  day. 
Earth  answers  heaven  :  the  holy  race 
Should  answer  His  unfailing  grace. 
Then  smile,  low  world,  in  spite  or  scorn, 
We  to  our  God  will  kneel  ere  prime  of  morn  ; 
The  third,  the  sixth,  the  ninth — each  Passion  hour, — 
We  with  high  praise  will  keep,  as  He  with  gifts  of 
power. 


94  Early  Encouragements. 

9. 

REPEATING  THE  CREED. 

"  Whatsoever  is  born  of  God  overcoraeth  the  world  :  and  this  u  the 
victory  that  overcometh  the  world,  even  our  faith." 

Many  the  banners  bright  and  fair, 

Uplifted  in  the  gleaming  sky, 
When  Faith  would  show  this  lower  air 

The  token  of  her  victory." 

The  heaven-enlightened  eye  and  mind, 

By  meek  confession  purified, 
Gazes  on  high,  nor  fails  to  find 

Which  way  the  signs  celestial  guide. 

One  bodies  forth  a  Virgin  Form, 

Holding  aloft  a  Cross  of  might, 
And  watching,  how  through  cloud  and  storm 

Its  head  is  lost  in  deepening  light. 

Another  dreams,  by  night  and  day, 

Of  a  calm  Prophet's  face,  intent 
To  hear  what  God  the  Lord  shall  say, 

Ere  the  dread  tones  be  gone  and  spent. 


Repeating  the  Creed.  95 

An  Eagle  from  the  deep  of  space 

Is  hovering  near,  and  hastes  to  bring 

(Meetest  the  unearthly  tale  to  trace,) 
A  plume  of  his  mysterious  wing. 

A  golden  Chalice  standing  by,— 
What  mantles  there  is  life  or  death  ; 

A  Dragon  to  the  unpurged  eye, 

A  Serpent  from  the  Cross,  to  Faith. 

O  visions  dread  and  bright,  I  feel 

You  are  too  high  for  me,  I  seek 
A  lowlier  impress  for  my  seal, 

More  of  this  earth,  though  pure  and  meek. 

Give  me  a  tender  spotless  child, 

Rehearsing  or  at  eve  or  morn 
His  chant  of  glory  undefiled, 

The  Creed  that  with  the  Church  was  born. 

Down  be  his  earnest  forehead  cast, 
His  slender  fingers  joined  for  prayer, 

With  half  a  frown  his  eye  sealed  fast 
Against  the  world's  intruding  glare. 


96  Early  Encouragements. 

Who,  while  his  lips  so  gently  move. 
And  all  his  look  is  purpose  strong, 

Can  say  what  wonders,  wrought  above, 
Upon  his  unstained  fancy  throng  ? 

The  world  new-framed,  the  Christ  new-born, 
The  Mother-Maid,  the  cross  and  grave, 

The  rising  sun  on  Easter  morn, 

The  fiery  tongues  sent  down  to  save, — 

The  gathering  Church,  the  Fount  of  Life, 
The  saints  and  mourners  kneeling  round, 

The  Day  to  end  the  body's  strife, 

The  Saviour  in  His  people  crowned. — 

All  in  majestic  march  and  even 
To  the  veil'd  eye  by  turns  appear, 

True  to  their  time  as  stars  in  heaven, 
No  morning  dream  so  still  and  clear. 

And  this  is  Faith,  and  thus  she  wins 
Her  victory,  clay  by  day  rehearsed. 

Seal  but  thine  eye  to  pleasant  sins, 

Love's  glorious  world  will  on  thee  burst. 


Early  Encouragements.  97 

10* 

LESSONS  AND  ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 

(For  St.  Luke's  Bay.) 

Mother  of  Christ's  children  dear, 
Teacher  true  of  loving  Fear, 
Kind  Physician,  wakeful  Nurse, 
Wont  with  many  a  potent  verse 
By  our  cradles  watch  to  keep, 
Singing  new  born  Saints  to  sleep  ; 
Be  thy  tenderest  breath  to-day 
Breathed  on  all  we  sing  or  say. 
For  to-day  that  Saint  we  own, 
"Who  to  Jesus'  cradle -throne 
Led  us  first,  with  shepherds  mild, 
With  that  Mother  undefiled, 
There  to  adore  the  wondrous  Child. 

Spouse  of  Christ,  so  pure  and  bright, 
Skill'd,  by  His  unearthly  light, 
In  our  coarse  dim  air  to  trace 
Lines  and  hues  from  yon  high  place, 


08  Early  Encouragements. 

Gathering  tones  from  earth  and  sky 
For  His  perfect  harmony  : — 
As  to-day  thou  guid'st  our  thought 
Where  that  holy  Painter  wrought, 
Who  with  pen  and  pencil  true 
Christ's  own  awful  Mother  drew  ; 
Be  thy  prayer  untired  and  strong, 
That  when  eager  fancies  throng, 
Pure  may  be  our  dream  and- song. 

Watcher  of  the  eternal  ways. 
Trusted  with  the  Saints'  high  praise. 
Oft  as  o'er  our  childish  trance 
History  bids  her  yisions  glance, — 
Wonders  wild  in  airy  measures, 
Records  graye  from  Memory's  treasures.- 
Guide  thou  well  the  heart -winning  line, 
May  our  loye  and  hate  be  thine. 
He  whose  tongue  of  Jesus  told 
On  His  Cross  and  in  His  Fold, 
Third  of  the  mysterious  Four, — 
Learn  we  all  his  sacred  lore, 
Listening  at  the  Kingdom's  door. 


Early  Encouragements,  99 


11. 


UNWEARIED  LOVE. 


"  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  I  say  not  unto  thee,  Until  seven  times  ;  but, 
Until  seventy  times  seven." 


My  child,  the  counsels  high  attend 

Of  thine  Eternal  Friend. 
When  longings  pure,  when  holy  prayers, 
When  self-denying  thoughts  and  cares 

Room  in  thine  heart  would  win. 
Stay  not  too  long  to  count  them  o'er  ; 
Rise  in  His  Name  ;  throw  wide  the  door, 

Let  the  good  Angels  in  : 

Nor  listen,  should  the  Tempter  say, 

"  How  wearying,  day  by  day, 
To  say  the  prayer  we  said  before, 
The  mountain  path  climb  o'er  and  o'er, 


100  Early  Encouragements. 

No  end  to  warfare  find  !" 
Nor  seek  thou,  limit  to  discern 
In  patient  woe,  in  duty  stern, 

But  learn  thy  Mother's  mind. 

She  will  not  tire  on  thee  to  wait 

In  early  hour  or  late  : 
To-morrow  even  as  yesterday, 
Still  onward,  onward  in  Love's  way 

To  speed,  her  only  dream. 
So  many  love-deeds,  done,  to  cease 
Her  kindly  toil,  and  rest  in  peace, 

Small  joy  to  her  would  seem. 

And  He,  the  Fountain  of  her  Love,- 

His  treasure-house  above 
Is  open,  day  and  night,  with  store 
Of  healing  for  our  daily  sore, 

With  grace  to  mourners  given, 
O'er -powering,  by  the  tide  of  tears, 
All  that  from  old  abhorred  years 
Remains  of  wasting  leaven. 


Unwearied  Love.  101 

He  pardoning  wearies  not.     Ah  why 

Behold  with  evil  eye 
Thy  brother  asking  grace  for  sin  ? 
He  doth  but  aid  thee,  more  to  win 

Of  hope  in  thy  last  end. 
In  heart  forgive — that  pays  Him  all  : 
But  grudging  souls  must  die  in  thrall, 

No  Saviour  and  no  Friend. 


102 


£F-    (Earli?  S^armnss- 

i. 

EFFECT  OF  EXAMPLE. 

"  For  I  have  five  brethren ;  that  he  may  testify  unto  them,  lest  they 
also  come  into  this  place  of  torment." 

Five  loving  souls,  each  one  as  mine, 

And  each  for  evermore  to  be  ! 

Each  deed  of  each  to  thrill 

For  good  or  ill 
Along  thine  awful  line, 
Eternity  ! 

Who  for  such  burthen  may  suffice  ? 
Who  bear  to  think,  how  scornful  tone, 
Or  word  or  glance  too  bold, 

Or  ill  dream  told, 

May  bar  from  Paradise 

Our  Master's  own  ? 


Early  Warnings.  103 

We  scatter  .seeds  with  careless  hand, 

And  dream  we  ne'er  shall  see  them  more  : 
But  for  a  thousand  years 

Their  fruit  appears, 
In  weeds  that  mar  the  land, 
Or  healthful  store. 

The  deeds  we  do,  the  words  we  say, — 
Into  still  air  they  seem  to  fleet, 
We  count  them  ever  past  ; 

But  they  shall  last, 
In  the  dread  judgment  they 
And  we  shall  meet  ! 

I  charge  thee  by  the  years  gone  by, 
For  the  love's  sake  of  brethren  dear, 
Keep  thou  the  one  true  way 

In  work  and  play, 
Lest  in  that  world  their  cry 
Of  woe  thou  hear  ! 


104  Early  Warnings. 

2. 

DANGER  OF  PRAISE. 

••  And  he  confessed,  and  denied  not  ;  but  confessed,  I  am  not  the  Christ." 

When  mortals  praise  thee,  hide  thine  eyes. 

Xor  in  thy  Master's  wrong 
Take  to  thyself  His  crown  and  prize  ; 

Yet  more  in  heart  than  tongue. 

None  holier  than  the  Desert  Priest 
-.     Beneath  the  Law's  dim  sky, 
Yet  in  Heaven's  kingdom  with  the  least, 
"We  read,  he  might  not  \7ie. 

No  member,  yet,  of  Christ  the  Son, 

Xo  gospel  Prophet  he  ; 
Only  a  voice  from  out  the  Throne 

Of  dread  yet  blest  decree. 

If  he  confessed,  nor  dared  deny, 

Woe  to  that  Christian's  heart, 
Who  in  man's  praise  would  walk  on  high, 

And  steal  his  Saviour's  part  ! 


Danger  of  Praise.  105 


And  ah  !  to  him  what  tenfold  woe. 

Who  hides  so  well  his  sin, 
Through  earth  he  seems  a  saint  to  go, 

Yet  dies  impure  within  ! 

Pray  we  our  Lord,  one  pang  to  send 

Of  deep  remorseful  fear 
For  every  smile  of  partial  friend. — 

Praise  be  our  Penance  here  ! 


106  Early  Warnings. 


ENVY. 

"  If  thou  doest  well,  shalt  thou  not  be  accepted  ?  and  if  thou  doest  not 
well,  sin  lieth  at  the  door.  And  unto  thee  shall  be  his  desire,  and  thou 
shalt  rule  over  him." 

"  What  is  this  cloud  upon  thy  brow  ?" 
,  "  The  Lord  accepts  my  brother's  vow, 
But  turns  no  ear  to  mine. 

High  in  the  liquid  heaven  behold 
His  altar-flames  in  many  an  airy  fold, 
But  where  I  kneel,  the  Almighty  makes  no  sign." 

"  Yes  :  welcome  to  the  pure  bright  air, 

And  dear  to  Angels,  is  his  prayer, 
For  the  sweet  fragrance'  sake 

Of  loving  deeds  :  bring  thou  the  same, 
Thine  altar  too  shall  feel  the  gracious  flame  : 
Haste,  ere  the  monster  at  thy  door  awake. 


Envy.  107 

Beside  thine  hearth,  thine  home  within, 

Lies  couched  and  still  a  deadly  sin, 
O  chain  it  while  'tis  time. 

Learn  on  thy  brother's  joy  to  gaze 
With  thankful  eye  ;  and  heaven's  high  counsel  praise, 
That  crowned  him  with  the  forfeit  of  thy  crime. 

Thy  forehead  yet  awhile  must  bear 

His  wrathful  mark  ;  but  alms  and  prayer, 

And  penance  true  and  stern, 
May  wear  it  out  :  thine  evil  eye 
May  melt  in  dews  of  holy  charity, 
Thy  sullen  tones  to  meek  confessions  turn. 


108  Early  Warnings. 


MISTRUST  OF  ELDERS. 

"  Jesus  saith  unto  him,  Thomas,  because  thou  hast  seen  me,  thou  hast 
believed  :  blessed  are  they  that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed." 

When  holy  books,  when  loving  friends, 

When  parents  grave  and  kind 
Tell  of  the  peace  the  Almighty  sends 

On  the  pure  heart  and  mind, — 

When  they,  on  whom  our  souls  should  lean, 

The  wondrous  joy  declare, 
Plow  to  God's  Altar  they  have  been 

And  found  their  Saviour  there, — 

Alas  !  too  often,  worldly  wise, 

We  scorn  what  they  reveal, 
We  will  not  see  with  others'  eyes, 

Ourselves  would  touch  and  feel. 

Thus  many  a  precious  day,  month,  year. 

The  blessing  we  delay  : 
It  comes  at  last  with  saddened  cheer, 

He  justly  dims  His  ray. 


Mistrust  of  Elders.  109 

Seven  days,  we  read,  a  Saint  of  old 

Dreamed  on  in  doubt  alone  : 
Seven  days  of  hope  and  joy  untold 

For  evermore  were  gone. 

And  when  at  last  the  all-gracious  Lord 

Vouchsafed  the  awful  sign, 
Made  answer  to  his  secret  word, 

And  showed  the  Wounds  divine, 

Even  with  that  light  of  love  there  came 

A  soft  yet  warning  cloud, 
A  shade  of  pity  more  than  blame  : — 

"  Behold  thy  prayer  allowed. 

My  glorious  Wounds  I  show  to  thee, 

Even  here  in  earth's  dull  light  ; 
But  happier  they,  who  wait  to  see, 

Till  heaven  has  purged  their  sight." 

Alas,  that  man  his  breath  should  lose 

In  wayward,  doubting  race, 
Nor  his  still  home  in  shelter  choose 

Where  Thou  hast  set  his  place  ! 


110  Early  Warnings. 

5. 

FINE  CLOTHES. 

"  And  a  very  great  multitude  spread  their  garments  in  the  way  ;  others 
cut  down  branches  from  the  trees,  and  strawed  them  in  the  way." 

(For  Palm  Sunday.) 

Look  westward,  pensive  little  one, 
How  the  bright  hues  together  run, 
Around  where  late  the  waning  sun 

Sank  in  his  evening  cloud. 
Or  eastward  turn  thee,  and  admire 
How  linger  yet  the  showers  of  fire, 
Deep  in  each  fold,  high  on  each  spire 

Of  yonder  mountain  proud. 

Thou  seest  it  not :  an  envious  screen, 
A  fluttering  leaflet,  hangs  between 
Thee  and  that  fair  mysterious  scene, 

A  veil  too  near  thine  eye. 
One  finger's  breadth  at  hand  will  mar 
A  world  of  light  in  Heaven  afar, 
A  mote  eclipse  a  glorious  star, 

An  eyelid  hide  the  sky. 


Fine  Clothes.  Ill 

And  while  to  clear  the  view  we  stay, 
Lo  !  the  bright  hour  hath  pass'd  away  ; 
A  twilight  haze,  all  dim  and  grey, 

Hath  quench'd  the  living  gleam. 
Remember  this,  thou  little  child, 
In  hours  of  Prayer,  when  fancies  wild 
Betwixt  thee  and  thy  Saviour  mild 

Come  floating  on  life's  stream. 

O  shame,  0  grief,  when  earth's  rude  toys, 
An  opening  door,  a  breath,  a  noise, 
Drive  from  the  heart  th?  eternal  joys, 

Displace  the  Lord  of  Love  ! 
For  half  a  prayer  perchance  on  high 
We  soar,  and  heaven  seems  bright  and  nigh, 
But  ah  !  too  soon  frail  heart  and  eye 

Sink  down  and  earthward  rove. 

The  Sunday  garment  glittering  gay 
The  Sunday  heart  will  steal  away. 
Then  haste  thee,  ere  the  fond  glance  stray, 
Thy  precious  robes  unfold, 


112  Early  Warnings. 

And  cast  before  thy  Saviour's  feet  : 
Him  spare  not  with  thy  best  to  greet. 
Nor  dread  the  dust  of  Sion's  street. 
'Tis  jewels  all  and  gold. 

His  very  shrines,  this  week  of  woe, 
Will  doff  their  rich  attire,  and  show 
As  mourners  ;  fear  we  then  to  go 

In  glad  and  festal  guise. 
Yea,  when  the  funeral  days  are  o'er, 
And  altars  shine  in  gold  once  more, 
I  bid  thee  lavish  all  thy  store 

In  fearless  sacrifice. 

The  gorgeous  hues  by  sinners  worn, 
Our  pride  and  our  good  Angel's  scorn,  - 
His  pavement  let  them  now  adorn. 

Or  with  His  daylight  blend. 
His  palace  court  hath  order  blest. 
When  from  His  Throne  of  earthly  rest 
In  glory  beams  th'  immortal  Guest. 

We  to  the  dust  descend. 


Early  Warnings.  113 


IRREVERENCE  IN  CHURCH. 

"The  Lord  is  in  His  holy  Temple:   let  all  the  earth  keep  silence 
before  Him." 

0  grief  for  Angels  to  behold 

Within  Christ's  awful  home  ! 
A  child  regenerate  here  of  old, 
And  here  for  lowliest  adoration  come, 

Forgetting  love  and  fear, 
And  with  bold  eye  and  tone  bringing  the  rude  world 
here  ! 

Where  is  the  Cross  upon  thy  brow, 

Seal  of  His  Love  and  Might, 
Whose  life-blood  earn'd  thee  power,  thy  vow 
To  keep,  and  serve  Him  in  His  courts  aright  ? 

Even  in  His  week  of  grace, 
Thou  know'st,  His  ire  brake  out  for  His  own   holy 
place. 

i 


114  Early  Warnings. 

Thrice  in  those  seven  dread  days,  we  read, 

He  to  His  Temple  came, 
If  haply  from  the  wrath  decreed 
He  might  redeem  th'  abode  of  His  great  Name  ; 

With  silent  warning  Eye, 
With  scourge  in  Hand,  with  doom  of  thrilling  Pro- 
phecy. 

On  Sunday  eve  with  many  a  palm, 

With  many  a  chant  divine, 
It  came,  that  Eye'  so  keen  and  calm, 
Like  a  still  lamp,  far  searching  aisle  and  shrine. 

Happy  the  few,  that  hour, 
Who   with  adoring  hearts   kneel'd   to   that ,  gaze    of 
power. 

Nor  they  unblest,  the  morrow  morn, 

Who  low  before  Him  lay 
In  penitential  guise  forlorn, 
And  for  His  sounding  scourge  made  duteous  way  : 

Who' at  His  word  their  store 
Of  earthly  goods  remov'd,  nor  ever  brought  them  more. 


Irreverence  in  Church.  115 

But  ah  !  no  blessing  left  He  then, 
When  the  third  evening  fell, 
And  o'er  the  olive-shaded  glen 
Came  wafted  to  His  Mount  His  stern  farewell. 

"  We  meet  not,  till  ye  own 
The    Crucified    and    scorn'd    before    the    Judgment 
Throne." 

No  blessing  left  the  Lord  of  bliss, 

Save  on  that  widow  poor, 
Who  only  offer'd  not  amiss, 
Whose  praise  for  aye  shall  in  His  Book  endure. 

What  if  the  place  were  doom'd  ? 
Love  will  abide  the  fire  :  her  gift  is  unconsum'd. 

Thrice  warn'd  the  dread  departing  word 

The  city  of  His  choice  ; 
And  threefold  are  thy  lessons,  Lord, 
Even  now  to  reckless  eye  and  heart  and  voice. 

Why  is  there  silence  here  ? 
Why  hush  the  prattling  babe  ?    "  An  unseen  Eye  we 
fear." 


116  Early  Warnings. 

What  are  these  frowns,  and  penal  ways 

With  rebel  hand  and  tongue  ? 
True  tokens  of  the  heart's  amaze, 
Where  waits  beside  the  door  the  scared  throng, 

By  sentence  heard  in  Heaven, 
Of  sin-retaining  power,  out  of  the  Presence  driven  : 

Driven  for  a  while  :  and  O  !  if  yet 
The  scornful  brow  they  bend, 
The  saintly  Thrones  are  duly  set, 
The  doom  prepar'd,  that  without  hope  or  end 

The  Temple  Roof  will  draw 
Down  on  the  irreverent  head,  there  lingering  without 
awe. 


Early  Warnings.  117 


DISRESPECT  TO  ELDERS. 

•k  And  he  went  up  from  thence  unto  Beth-el  :  and  as  he  was  going  up 
by  the  way,  there  came  forth  little  children  out  of  the  city,  and  mocked 
him,  and  said  unto  him,  Go  up,  thou  bald-head  ;  go  up,  thou  bald-head. 
And  he  turned  back,  and  looked  on  them,  and  cursed  them  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  :  and  there  came  forth  two  she-bears  out  of  the  wood,  and 
tare  forty  and  two  children  of  them.  And  he  went  from  thence  to  mount 
Car  me  1." 

The  Powers  of  111  have  mysteries  of  their  own, 
Their  sacramental  signs  and  prayers, 

Their  choral  chants  in  many  a  winning  tone, 

Their  watchwords,  seals,  processions,  known 
Far  off  to  friend  and  foe  :  their  lights  and  perfum'd 


And  even  as  men,  where  warring  hosts  abide, 
By  faint  and  silent  tokens  learn 

At  distance  whom  to  trust,  from  whom  to  hide, 
So  round  us  set  on  every  side 
Th'  aerial  sentinels  our  good  and  ill  discern. 


118  Early  Warnings. 

The  lawless  wish,  the  unaverted  eye, 

Are  as  a  taint  upon  the  breeze, 
To  lure  foul  spirits  :  haughty  brows  and  high 
Are  signals  to  invite  him  nigh, 
Whose  onset  ever  Saints  await  on  bended  knees. 

Him  in  some  thievish  corner  of  the  street 

Full  often  lurking  low  we  trace, 
When  sullen  lips  our  kindly  glances  meet, 

And  looks,  that  pastoral  eyes  should  greet, 
As  flowers  the  morn,  fall  coldly,  as  on  empty  space. 

His  poisonous  whisper  hath  been  there,  be  sure. 

Where  childhood's  simple  courtesies 
Are  scorn'd  :  so  trains  he  up  his  school  impure, 
So  may  his  nursery  tasks  inure 
The  hearts  that  by  and  by  against  the  Church  shall 
rise. 

Open  their  eyes,  good  Lord,  that  they  may  know 

Whose  edicts  they  so  clearly  hold, 
Making  Thy  rites  a  revel  and  a  show. 

Where  the  rude  world  may  come  and  go. 
To  sit  at  ease,  and  judge  the  Saints  and  Seers  of  old. 


Disrespect  to  Elders.  119 

The  stubborn  knees  with  holy  trembling  smite, 
Which  bow  not  at  Thine  awful  Name. 

Pour  from  Thine  Altar  Thine  own  glorious  Light, 
Winning  the  world-enamour'd  sight 
To  turn  and  see  which  way  the  healing  radiance  came. 

O  may  our  fallen  land,  though  late,  unlearn 

Her  reckless  unbelieving  heart, 
And  in  the  Gifts,  sweet  as  from  Aaron's  urn, 
And  in  the  pure  white  Robe,  discern 
Signs  lingering,  faint  and  few,  ere    the    last    Saint 
depart. 

O  grant  us  Thy  good  Angel,  evermore 

To  wait,  with  unseen  scourge  in  hand, 
On  the  Church  path,  and  by  the  low  school  door. 
Write  in  young  hearts  Thy  reverend  lore, 
Nor  be  our  christen'd  babes  as  Bethel's  lawless  band. 

Perhaps  among  the  wailing  matrons  there 
Was  one  who  to  her  child  had  taught 
The  ways  of  scorn,  breathing  the  poison'd  air 
Into  that  bosom  fresh  and  fair 
Which  from  her  own  drew  life. — Alas  !    too  well  it 
wrought. 


120  Early  Warnings, 

Now  self-accusing  by  the  drear  wood-side 
She  ranges  where  th'  avengers  came, 

In  dreams  of  penance  wandering  wild  and  wide. 
But  he,  the  Healer  and  the  Guide, 
To  Carmel  top  is  gone,  far  from  our  woe  and  shame. 

Now  from  his  lips  the  judgment  word  hath  past, 

The  lightning  from  his  awful  brow  : 
Low  on  his  knees  in  some  bleak  cavern  cast, 
His  prayers  go  up  o'er  ocean  vast 
For  those  whom  he  hath  doom'd  :  he  is  their  Patron 
now. 

And  our  Elisha — fails  He  on  the  Mount 

To  plead,  His  holy  ones  to  pray 
For  rebels  and  profane  ? — O  who  may  count 
The  drops  from  that  eternal  Fount 
Of  heavenly  Intercession,  welling  night  and  day  ? 

Ye  fragrant  showers,  O  were  it  not  for  you, 
How  could  we  breathe  the  parched  air 
Of  the  world's  freedom,  feverish  and  untrue, 
Withering  each  soft  and  kindly  hue 
Even  in  young  hearts  ?  but  ye  spring-weather  cherish 
there. 


Disrespect  to  Elders.  121 

Your  influence  from  afar  we  own  and  bless, 

When,  school-hours  past,  o'er  village  green, 

Or  homely  garden,  bright  in  its  May  dress, 
Come  greetings  from  a  throng  and  press 
Of  little  strangers,  prompt  as  fairies  round  their  queen. 

Ever,  as  up  and  down  our  glances  go, 

In  that  fair  round  we  may  discern 
A  beaming  smile  and  an  obeisance  low  ; — 
So  forest  bluebells  in  a  row 
Stoop  to  the  first  May  wind,    sweeping  o'er  each  in 
turn. 

And  here  and  there,  perchance,  one  graver  found 

A  comrade's  roving  eye  may  school 
To  courtesy  forgot  : — so  in  each  round 
Of  duty,  here  on  earth's  dull  ground, 
Angels  with  us  rehearse  their  own  majestic  Rule. 


122  Early  Warnings. 


HOME  SICKNESS. 

"  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and  wife, 
and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  can- 
not be  my  disciple." 

(For  St.  Mark's  Day. J 

A  holy  home,  young  Saint,  was  thine, 

Child  of  a  priestly  line,_ 
Bred  where  the  vernal  midnight  air 

Was  vocal  with  the  prayer 
Of  Christians  fresh  from  Paschal  meat, 
With  supplication  strong  and  sweet, 
With  fast  and  vigil,  in  meek  strife 

Winning  their  Pastor's  life. 

A  holy  home,  a  mother  bold, 

Who  to  the  scattered  fold 
Threw  wide  her  door  at  dead  of  night, 

Nor  feared  the  tyrant's  might  ; — 
The  sister  true  of  him  who  poured 
His  treasure  at  Thy  feet,  O  Lord  : 
The  Son  of  Comfort  named  was  he 

By  those  who  hearts  could  see. 


Home  Sickiiess.  123 

A  holy  home,  a  refuge-bower 

For  Saints  in  evil  hour, 
Where  child,  and  slave,  and  household  maid, 

Of  their  own  joy  afraid, 
As  parent's  voice  familiar  own 
The  pastoral  Apostolic  tone. 
'Tis  heard,  and  each  the  race  would  win 

To  tell  the  news  within. 

A  holy  household  !  yet  beware  ! 

Even  here  may  lurk  a  snare. 
These  home  delights,  so  keen  and  pure, 

May  not  for  aye  endure. 
Ere  long,  perchance,  a  sterner  sound 
Will  summon  :    where  wilt  thou  be  found  ? 
Even  holy  homes  may  hearts  beguile, 

And  mar  God's  work  a  while. 


124  Early  Warnings 


ILL  TEMPER. 

"  Jesus  was  casting  out  a  Devil,  and  it  was  dumb  :  and  it  came  to 
pass,  when  the  Devil  was  cast  out,  the  dumb  spake." 

Not  often  bends  the  face  of  heaven  and  earth 

A  dull  and  joyless  brow 
On  hearts  that  own  meek  love  and  quiet  mirth  : 

But  such  their  aspect  now. 
Slowly  and  late  through  leaden  skies 
The  scanty  lights  of  morning  rise, 

And  hour  by  weary  hour 
The  hard  stern  outlines  loom  around 
Of  hill  by  many  a  frost  embrowned, 

Pine  top,  and  leafless  forest  bower. 

And  days  have  been,  wild  days  of  stormy  wing, 

O'er-powering  breath  and  thought, 
When  the  dark  clouds  plied  each  its  heavy  sling, 
And  air  and  ocean  wrought 
As  erst  o'er  Noe,  hiding  all 
The  bright  hues  of  this  earthly  ball. 


Ill  Temper.  125 

The  traveller  on  his  way 
Was  like  a  pinnace  on  the  deep, 
WMrling  around  as  rude  waves  sweep, 

The  sport  of  every  gust  and  spray. 

So,  happy  childhood,  thine  enchanted  clime 

Two  evil  spirits  mar, 
This  wild,  that  sullen  :  o'er  the  unlovely  prime 

Looks  out  no  lingering  star, 
No  softly-brightening  trail  of  morn  : 
Their  day,  in  gloom  or  tempest  born, 

Lowers  on. till  noon  and  night  : — 
Because  the  new-born  soul  made  haste 
Love's  christening  gift  to  scorn  or  waste, 

Fretting  or  fierce,  in  Angels'  sight. 

Yet  burns  the  sun  on  high  beyond  the  cloud  : 

Each  in  his  southern  cave 
The  warm  winds  linger,  but  to  be  allowed 
One  breathing  o'er  the  wave, 
One  flight  across  the  unquiet  sky  ; — 
Swift  as  a  vane  may  turn  on  high 
The  smile  of  heaven  comes  on. 


126  Early  Warnings. 

So  waits  the  Lord  behind  the  veil, 
His  light  on  frenzied  cheek  or  pale 
To  shed  when  the  dark  hour  is  gone. 

O  ye  who  feel  the  dumb  deaf  spirit's  breath 

About  your  heart  and  home, 
As  in  foul  cavern  spreading  damps  of  death, 
Where  only  Love  should  come  ; — 
Who  mark,  how  wane  the  lamps"  of  prayer 
Where  sullen  thoughts  are  in  the  air  ;— 
Haste,  to  the  Healer  bring 
'  The  moody  silent  one  :  perchance 
He  at  the  mighty  word  and  glance 

With  Saints  will  hear,  with  Angels  sing. 

w 

But  if  the  frenzy  fire  blaze  out,  and  cast 

The  sparks  of  Stygian  glow, 
Wild  evil  words,  such  showers  as  rode  the  blast 
In  Sodom's  overthrow  ; 
If  tossing  limb  and  glaring  eye 
Declare  the  o'ermastering  agony  ; 

On  Tabor's  crown  behold 
The  pure  calm  glory  :  Jesus  there 


Ill  Temper.  127 

Hath  spent  the  summer  night  in  prayer  : 
There  be  your  tale  of  anguish  told. 

Faint  not,  if  prayer  of  man  find  tardy  grace, 

Though  saintly  knees  be  bowed, 
But  wait  untired  beneath  the  mountain's  base  ; 
Soon  will  the  healing  Cloud 
Toward  thee  descend, — the  voice  of  Love 
Through  the  glad  air  will  gently  move  : — 

"  Believe,  and  all  may  be  :" — 
The  voice  of  Power  command  afar 
The  rushings  of  that  ireful  war, 

And  heart  and  tongue  for  prayer  be  free. 

Nay,  doubt  it  not  :  He  gave  His  signs  of  yore, 

When  Angels  at  the  porch 
Met  thee,  and  led  along  the  sacred  floor, 
And  from  their  unseen  torch 
Shrank  muttering  to  his  penal  fire 
The  Demon  Shade,  companion  dire 

Of  all  in  evil  born. — 
Within  thee,  if  thou  wilt,  be  sure 
That  happy  hour's  strong  spells  endure, 
The  seal  of  heaven,  not  all  outworn. 


128 


F*    €t}ilHxtnf&  Croufiies* 


THE  CROSS  LAID  ON  INFANTS. 


"  And  as  they  led  him  away,  they  laid  hold  upon  one  Simon,  a  Cyrenian, 
coming  out  of  the  country,  and  on  him  they  laid  the  cross,  that  he  might 
bear  it  after  Jesus." 


"  Well  may  I  brook  the  lash  of  scorn  or  woe 

On  mine  own  head  to  fall : 
An  evil  mark  is  on  me  :  well  I  know 
I  have  deserved  it  all. 
But  these  my  tender  sheep, 
What  have  they  sown,  such  ill  to  reap  ? 
Why  should  a  new-born  babe  the  watch  of   sorrow 
keep  ?" 


The  Cross  laid  on  Infants.  129 

Stay  thee,  sad  heart,  or  ere  thou  breathe  thy  plaint, 

And  still  thee,  murmuring  tongue, 
And  mark  who  climbs  the  hill,  so  meek,  so  faint, 
Whose  brows  with  anguish  wrung 
On  the  rough  way  drop  blood  ; 
How  rushing  round  Him  like  a  flood, 
They   drag    Him,    fallen    beneath   the   accursed    and 
galling  wood. 

Nor  Him  alone.     They  seize  upon  his  way. 

Early  that  fearful  morn, 
One  hastening  Zion-ward,  and  on  him  lay 

Part  of  the  pain  and  scorn, 

Part  of  the  Cross  :  who  knows 
Which  in  his  secret  heart  he  chose, 
The  persecutors'  peace,  or  the  meek  Saviour's  woes  ? 

Bowed  he  with  grudging  mind  the  yoke  to  bear, 

Or  was  the  bitter  sweet 
For  Jesus'  sake  ?  Lo,  in  the  silent  air 

On  unseen  pinions  fleet 

The  hosts  of  scorn  and  love  : 
With  the  sad  train  they  onward  move  : — 
Owns  he  the  raven's  wing,  or  the  soft  gliding  Dove  ? 


130  Children  s  Troubles. 

O  surely,  when  the  healing  Rood  he  felt, 

The  sacrificial  fire 
Of  Love  redeeming  did  his  spirit  melt, 

And  with  true  heart's  desire 

He  set  where  Jesus  trode 
His  steps  along  the  mountain  road, 
Still  learning  more  and  more  of  His  sweet  awful  load. 

Thou  leanest  o'er  thine  infant's  couch  of  pain  : 

It  breaks  thine  heart,  to  see 
The  wan  glazed  eye,  the  wasted  arm,  that  fain 

Would  reach  and  cling  to  thee. 

Yet  is  there  quiet  rest 
Prepared  upon  the  Saviour's  breast 
For  babes  unconscious  borne  on  Calvary  to  be  blest. 

Nor  to  the  darlings  of  thine  aching  heart, 

Nor  to  thine  own  weak  soul, 
Grudge  thou  the  good  Cyrenian's  patient  part, 

The  Cross  that  maketh  whole 

Met  unawares,  and  laid 
Upon  the  unresisting  head, 
The  tottering  feet  upon  the  way  of  sorrow  led. 


The  Cross  laid  on  Infants.  131 

What  if  at  times  the  playful  hand,  though  weak, 
From  the  safe  bosom  part 

The  nursing  Father's  awful  crown  to  seek, 
And  find  it  thorns,  and  start 
With  grieved  and  wondering  call  ? 
Who  but  would  joy,  one  drop  should  fall 

Out  of  his  own  dull  veins,  for  Him  who  spared  us  all  ? 


132  Children's  Troubles. 


2. 


TEARS  RESTRAINED. 

"  Forbear  to  cry,  make  no  mourning  for  the  dead,  bind  the  tire  of  thine 
head  upon  thee,  and  put  on  thy  shoes  upon  thy  feet,  and  cover  not  thy 
lips,  and  eat  not  the  bread  of.  men." 

"  Tears  are  of  Nature's  best,  they  say  ; 
An  April  dry  makes  cheerless  May  : 

Eyes  that  with  answering  glow 
Meet  eager  joy,  I  love  not  well 
That  they  should  gaze  immoveable 

On  sights  of  fear  and  woe." 

"  Nay,  soft  and  wavering  shows  the  heart 
Whence  the  life-drops  so  lightly  start, 

And  harsher  by  and  by 
Will  prove,  I  ween,  the  withering  hour 
Of  selfish  care,  for  each  brief  shower 

That  hurries  down  our  sky." 


Tears  Restrained.  133 

Such  talk  when  Angels  watching  near 
From  earthly  guardians  overhear. 

Haply  in  heart  they  say. 
rt  These  are  half-truths.     TVho  deeply  scan 
The  mystery  of  the  tears  of  man, 

To  nurse  them  or  allay. 

"  Demands,  they  know,  a  mightier  skill  : 
He  only  may  the  task  fulfil, 

Who  hath  the  springs  in  hand 
Of  Ocean,  saying  to  this  wave, 
'  Retire  :' — to  that,  '  unbridled  rave 

High  on  the  thirsty  sand.' 

u  He  in  His  wisdom  hath  decreed 
That  shingle  light,  or  frail  sea -weed, 

Should  here  the  proud  waves  stay, 
There,  giant  rocks  aside  be  hurled. 
So  in  the  heart's  lone  awful  world 

His  waters  know  their  way. 

"  His  Power  the  inward  storm  unchains 
At  will,  His  Power  and  Love  refrains. 
Ask  ye,  by  what  high  law  ? 


134  Children's  Troubles. 

Go  not  to  sage  or  seer,  but  trace 
His  impress  on  some  bright  young  face, 
Half  passion  and  half  awe. 

"  Whom  He  hath  blessed  and  called  His  own, 
He  tries  them  early,  look  and  tone, 

Bent  brow  and  throbbing  heart  ; 
Tries  them  with  pain,  dread  seal  of  Love. 
Oft  when  their  ready  patience  strove 

With  keen  o'ermastering  smart, 

"  And  mortals  deemed  it  gentle  blood, 
Faith  might  discern  the  healing  Rood 

Invisibly  applied  : 
And  when  her  veil  soft  Pity  drew 
Over  each  glad  and  vernal  hue, 

And  babes  for  others  sighed, 

"  A  tear,  we  knew,  from  Lazarus'  grave, 
Had  lent  high  virtue  to  the  wave 

In  their  baptismal  hour  : — 
Or  one  of  those  He  deigned  to  weep 
O'er  Salem,  in  the  olived  steep, 

A  world-embalming  shower. 


Tears  Restrained.  135 

"  Thou  art  stern  courage,  Heavenly  Child, 
Thou  to  thy  babes  art  mourning  mild  ; 

Even  as  Thy  Saints  of  old 
From  weeping  now  forbore,  now  prayed 
Their  eyes  might  endless  showers  be  made 

Over  Thy  fallen  fold. 

;;  One  law  is  theirs,  and  Thine  :  to  stay 
Self-loving  moans — allow  no  way 

For  grief  that  only  grieves. 
But  drops  that  cherish  prayer,  or  speed 
The  pure  resolve,  or  duteous  deed, — 

He  gave  them,  He  receives." 


136  Children's  Troubles. 


3. 


LONELINESS. 

"  And  He  said  unto  them,  Why  are  ye  troubled  ?  and  why  do  thoughts 
arise  in  your  hearts  ?  Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet,  that  it  is  I  Myself  : 
handle  Me,  and  see  :  for  a  spirit  hath  not  flesh  and  bones,  as  ye  see  Me 
have." 

Alone,  apart  from  mother  dear 

And  father's  gracious  eye, 
From  all  the  nursery's  joyous  cheer, 

Xor  babe  nor  playmate  by  ! 

A  place  where  others  are  at  home. 

But  all  is  strange  to  me  ! 
And  now  the  twilight  hour  is  come. 

And  the  clear  shadows  flee. 

Scarce  dare  I  lay  me  down  and  sleep, 

Lest  in  half-waking  dream 
Dimly  all  ways  to  dance  and  creep 

The  forms  around  me  seem. 


Loneliness.  137 

Help  me  with  reading,  help  to  pray, 

That  I  with  spirit  free 
Mine  evening  hymn  may  sing  or  say 

Upon  my  bended  knee. 

But  look,  your  lore  be  true  and  wise, 

The  lamp  ye  light  burn  clear, 
Xo  flash  to  pass  o'er  strained  eyes, 

Leaving  all  dark  and  drear. — 

0  kindly  and  in  happy  hour 
Ye  bring  the  Volume  blest  : 

There  all  is  Truth,  all  Love,  all  Power  : 
Xow  sweet  will  be  my  rest. 

Now  at  thy  pleasure  roam,  wild  heart, 
In  dreams  o'er  sea  and  land  : 

1  bid  thee  at  no  shadows  start  : 

The  L'pholder  is  at  hand. 

The  lurid  hues,  the  deep  sea-gleams, 

That  blend  in  hour  of  storm, 
Till  every  hurrying  night -wind  seems 

To  waft  a  phantom  form, 


138  Children's  Troubles. 

Are  but  His  signs,  who  lonely  paced 

The  midnight  waters  drear. 
A  spirit  o'er  the  heaving  waste 

He  seemed — they  cried  for  fear. 

Hark  !  in  the  gale  how  softly  thrills 
The  voice  that  wakes  the  dead  ! 

Happy,  whose  ear  such  music  fills 
By  night  upon -his  bed. 

"  'Tis  I,"  He  saith  :  "  be  not  afraid  !" 

Whether  in  ocean  vast, 
Or  where  across  the  moonlight  glade 

Strange  woodland  shapes  are  cast, 

Or  flickering  shadows  come  and  go 

In  weary  hours  of  gloom, 
While  midnight  lamps  burn  dim  and  low, 

Round  some  mysterious  room, 

One  only  spell  hath  power  to  soothe 
When  thoughts  and  dreams  appal. 

Name  thou  His  Name,  Who  is  the  Truth, 
And  He  will  hear  thy  call  ; 


Loneliness.  139 

As  when  new-risen  on  Easter  night 

Amid  His  own  He  stood, 
Fear  with  His  sudden  shade,  calm  might 

Came  with  His  Flesh  and  Blood  ; 

Him  name  in  Faith,  and  softly  make 

The  sign  to  Angels  known. 
So  never  need  thy  young  heart  ache 

In  silence  and  alone. 


140  Children's  Troubles. 


SHYNESS. 

"  Moses  hid  his  lace ;  for  he  was  afraid  to  look  upon  God." 

Tear  not  away  tke  veil,  dear  friend, 
Xor  from  its  shelter  rudely  rend 
The  heaven-protected  flower  : 
It  waits  for  sun  and  shower 
To  woo  it  kindly  forth  in  its  own  time, 
And  when  they  come,  untaught  will  know  its  hour  of 
prime. 

Blame  not  the  eye  that  from  thee  turns, 
The  cheek  that  in  a  moment  burns 
With  tingling  fire  so  bright, 
Feeling  thine  eager  sight, — 
The  lowly  drooping  brow,  the  stammering  tongue, 
The  giddy  wavering  thought,   scarce  knowing  right 
and  wrong. 


Shyness.  141 

What  if  herein  weak  Nature  own 
Her  trembling  underneath  His  Throne. 
Whose  eye  can  ne'er  depart 
From  our  frail  evil  heart  ? 
Who  knows  how  near  His  look  of  awful  love 
The  gaze  of  aged  men  may  to  the  young  heart  prove  ? 

The  springs  of  silent  awe,  that  dwell 
Deepest  in  heart,  will  highest  swell, 
When  in  His  destined  hour 
He  calls  them  out  in  power. 
Hide  thou  thy  face,  and  fear  to  look  on  God, 
Else  never  hope  to  grasp  the  wonder-working  rod. 

With  quivering  hands  that  closely  fold 
Over  his  downcast  eyes,  behold 
The  Shepherd  on  the  Mount 
Adores  the  Living  Fount 
Of  pure  unwasting  fire  :  no  glance  he  steals. 
But  in  his  heart's  deep  joy  the  Dread   Eye   gazing 
feels, — 

Feels  it,  and  gladlier  far  would  die 

Than  let  it  go.     There  will  he  lie 

Till  the  Dread  Voice  return, 


142 


Children's  Troubles. 


And  he  the  lore  may  learn 
Of  his  appointed  task — bold  deeds  to  dare, 
High  mysteries  to  impart,  deep  penances  to  bear. 

Ere  long  to  the  same  holy  place 
He  will  return,  and  face  to  face 

Upon  the  glory  gaze, 
Then  onward  bear  the  rays 
To  Israel  :  priest  and  people  from  his  glance 
Will  shrink,  as  he  from   God's  in  that  deep  Horeb 
trance. 


Then  tear  we  not  the  veil  away, 
Nor  ruthless  tell  in  open  day 
The  tender  spirit's  dream. 
0  let  the  deepening  stream 
Might  from  the  mountain -springs  in  silence  draw. 
O  mar  we   not  His  work,   who  trains  His  saints  in 
awe  ! 


Children 's  Troubles.  143 

5. 

STAMMERING. 

"  He  maketh  both  the  deaf  to  hear,  and  the  dumb  to  speak." 

When  heart  and  head  are  both  o'erflowing, 
When  eager  words  within  are  glowing, 
And  all  at  once  for  utterance  crowd  and  throng, 

How  hard  to  find  no  tongue  ! 
The  little  babe  upon  the  breast 
Wails  out  his  wail  and  is  at  rest : 

These  may  but  look  and  long. 


Perhaps  some  deed  of  sacred  story, 

Or  lesson  deep  of  God's  high  glory, 

For  many  a  toilsome  hour  rehears'd  or  read, 

In  holy  Church  is  said. 
He  knows  it  all — none  half  so  well, — 
And  longs  in  turn  his  tale  to  tell, 

But  all  his  words  are  fled. 


144  Children's  Troubles. 

Perhaps  on  high  the  chant  is  ringing, 
The  youthful  choir  the  free  notes  flinging, 
To  soar  at  will  the  mazy  roof  around  : 
But  his  to  earth  are  bound. 
In  every  chord  his  heart  beats  high, 
But  vainly  would  his  frail  lips  try 
The  tones  his  soul  hath  found.  ' 

O  gaze  not  so  in  wistful  sadness  r 
Ere  long  a  morn  of  power  and  gladness 
Shall  break  the  heavy  dream  ;  the  unchained  voice 

Shall  in  free  air  rejoice  : 
Thoughts  with  their  words  and  tones  shall  meet, 
The  unfaltering  tongue  harmonious  greet 

The  heart's  eternal  choice. 

Even  now  the  call  that  wakes  the  dying 
Steals  on  thine  ear  with  gentle  sighing  : 
The  breath,  the   dew   of    heaven   hath   touched   thy 
tongue  : 
Far  to  the  winds  are  flung 
The  bonds  unseen,  ill  spirits'  work  : 
Satan  no  more  may  round  thee  lurk, 
Thine  Epphatha  is  sung. 


Children '$  Troubles.  145 


FEAR  OF  WILD  BEASTS. 


(For  Quinquagesima.j 


Oft  have  I  hid  mine  eyes, 
When  lightning  thrill'd  across  the  midnight  skies  : 

When  tempests  howl'd  o'er  land  or  main, 
Oft  have  I  thought  upon  the  deluge  rain. 

But  now  I  read,  that  never  more 
Will  Heaven's  dread  windows  so  give  out  their  awful 
store. 
The  rainbow-sign  is  given, — 
His  word  endures  in  Heaven. 

Oft  have  I  shrank  for  fear, 
When  forms  that  seem'd  of  giant  mould  drew  near, 

And  deeply  in  my  childish  heart 
I  thrill'd  at  every  rush,  and  bound,  and  start  : 


146  Children's  Troubles. 

But  now  I  hear  th'  Eternal  Law 
That  binds  them  in  His  chain  of  deep  mysterious  awe  : 
I  fear  no  monster  birth, — 
His  word  endures  on  earth. 

Even  as  the  bright  calm  bow 
Is  safety's  pledge  when  waters  wild  o'erflow, 

As  horned  herds  will  turn  and  fly 
If  but  a  child  survey  them  with  bold  eye, 

So  in  the  storms  we  may  not  see 
Thy   Saviour's  rainbow  crown,   O  Faith,   thine    own 
may  be  : 
So,  if  His  Cross  He  raise, 
Hell  powers  at  distance  gaze. 

There  may  we  calmly  dwell, 
Nor  sounding  tempest  dread,  nor  lion  fell. 

But,  little  children,  muse  and  mark  : 
His  blessing  waits  on  inmates  of  His  ark, 

On  such  as  in  His  awful  shade 
Abide,  and  keep  the  seal  His  Holy  Spirit  made. 
Else  will  the  flood  awake, 
His  chain  the  Lion  break. 


Children's  Troubles,  147 

7. 

SEPARATION. 

"  For  she  said,  If  I  may  touch  but  His  clothes,  I  shall  be  made  whole." 

She  did  but  touch  with  finger  weak 

The  border  of  His  sacred  vest, 
Nor  did  He  turn,  nor  glance,  nor  speak, 
Yet  found  she  health  and  rest. 

Well  may  the  word  sink  deep  in  me, 

For  I,  full  many  a  fearful  hour, 
Fast  clinging,  mother  dear,  to  thee, 

Have  felt  Love's  guardian  power. 

When  looks  were  strange  on  every  side, 

When  gazing  round  I  only  saw 
Far-reaching  ways,  unknown  and  wide, 
I  could  but  nearer  draw  : 

I  could  but  nearer  draw,  and  hold 

Thy  garment's  border  as  I  might. 
This  while  I  felt,  my  heart  was  bold, 
My  step  was  free  and  light. 


148  Children's  Troubles. 

Thou  haply  on  thy  path  the  while 

Didst  seem  unheeding  me  to  fare, 
Scarce  now  and  then,  by  bend  or  smile, 
Owning  a  playmate  there. 

What  matter  ?  well  I  knew  my  place, 
Deep  in  my  mother's  inmost  heart  : 
I  fear'd  but,  in  my  childish  race. 

I  from  her  robe  might  part.    - 

O  Lord,  the  Fount  of  Mother's  Love 

And  Infant's  Faith,  I  hear  thee  mourn  : 
"  Thee,  tender  as  a  callow  dove, 

Long  have  I  nurs'd  and  borne  : 

"  Have  nurs'd  and  borne  thee  up  on  high, 
Ere  Mother's  love  to  thee  was  known  : 
And  now  I  set  thee  down,  to  try 
If  thou  canst  walk  alone. 

"  Nay,  not  alone — but  I  would  prove 

Thy  duteous  heart.     O  grudge  no  more 
Thy  Lord  His  joy,  when  healing  Love 
His  very  robe  flows  o'er." 


Children's  Trouble*.  14(.> 


BEREAVEMENT. 

M  The  Lord  gave  Job  twice  as  much  as  he  had  before." 

I  mark'd  when  vernal  meads  were  bright, 
And  many  a  primrose  smil'd, 

I  mark'd  her,  blithe  as  morning  light, 
A  dimpled  three  years'  child. 

A  basket  on  one  tender  arm 

Contained  her  precious  store 

Of  spring -flowers  in  their  freshest  charm, 
Told  proudly  o'er  and  o'er. 

The  other  wound  with  earnest  hold 
About  her  blooming  guide, 

A  maid  who  scarce  twelve  years  had  told 
So  walk'd  they  side  by  side. 

One  a  bright  bud,  and  one  might  seem 
A  sister  flower  half  blown. 

Full  joyous  on  their  loving  dream 
The  sky  of  April  shone. 


150  Children's  Troubles. 

The  summer  months  swept  by  :  again 
That  loving  pair  I  met. 

On  russet  heath,  and  bowery  lane, 
Th'  autumnal  sun  had  set  : 

And  chill  and  damp  that  Sunday  eve 
Breath'd  on  the  mourners'  road 

That  bright-eyed  little  one  to  leave 
Safe  in  the  Saints'  abode. 

Behind,  the  guardian  sister  came. 

Her  bright  brow  dim  and  pale — 
O  cheer  thee,  maiden  !  in  His  Name, 

Who  still'd  Jairus'  wail  ! 

Thou  mourn'st  to  miss  the  fingers  soft 
That  held  by  thine  so  fast, 

The  fond  appealing  eye,  full  oft 
Tow'rd  thee  for  refuge  cast. 

Sweet  toils,  sweet  cares,  for  ever  gone  ! 

No  more  from  stranger's  face 
Or  startling  sound,  the  timid  one 

Shall  hide  in  thine  embrace. 


Bereavement.  151 

Thy  first  glad  earthly  task  is  o'er, 

And  dreary  seems  thy  way. 
But  what  if  nearer  than  before 

She  watch  thee  even  to-day  ? 

What  if  henceforth  by  Heaven's  decree 

She  leave  thee  not  alone, 
But  in  her  turn  prove  guide  to  thee 

In  ways  to  Angels  known  ? 

O  yield  thee  to  her  whisperings  sweet  : 

Away  with  thoughts  of  gloom  ! 
In  love  the  loving  spirits  greet, 

Who  wait  to  bless  her  tomb. 

In  loving  hope  with  her  unseen 

Walk  as  in  hallow'd  air. 
When  foes  are  strong  and  trials  keen, 

Think,  "  What  if  she  be  there  ?" 


152  Children's  Troubles. 


ORPHANHOOD. 

"  Behold  thy  Mother." 

Oft  have  I  watcli'd  thy  trances  light, 

*  And  longed  for  once  to  be 

A  partner  in  thy- dream's  delight, 
And  smile  in  sleep  with  thee  ; 

To  sport  again,  one  little  hour, 
'With  the  pure  gales,  that  fan  thy  nursery  bower. 
And  as  of  old  undoubting  upward  spring, 
Feeling  the  breath  of  heaven  beneath  my  joyous  wing. 

But  rather  now  with  thee,  dear  child, 

Fain  would  I  lie  awake, 
For  with  no  feverish  care  and  wild 

May  thy  clear  bosom  ache  ; 
Thy  woes  go  deep,  but  deeper  far 
The  soothing  power  of  yonder  kindly  star  : 
Thy  first  soft  slumber  on  thy  mother's  breast 
Was  never  half  so  sweet  as  now  thy  calm  unrest. 


Orphanhood.  153 

Thy  heart  is  sad  to  think  upon 

Thy  mother  far  away, 
Wondering  perchance,  now  she  is  gone, 

Who  best  for  thee  may  pray. 
In  many  a  waking  dream  of  love 
Thou  seest  her  yet  upon  her  knees  above  : 
The  vows  she  breathed  beside  thee  yesternight, 
She   breathes  above  thee  now,  winged  with   intenser 
might. 

Both  vespers  soft  and  matins  clear 

For  thee  she  duly  pays, 
Now  as  of  old,  and  there  as  here  ; 

Xor  yet  alone  she  prays. 
Thy  vision — (whoso  chides,  may  blame 
The  instinctive  reachings  of  the  Altar  flame) 
Shows  thee  above,  in  yon  ethereal  air. 
A  holier  Mother,  rapt  in  more  prevailing  prayer. 

'Tis  she  to  whom  thy  heart  took  flight 

Of  old  in  joyous  hour, 
When  first  a  precious  sister  spright 

Came  to  thy  nursery  bower, 


154  Children's  Troubles. 

And  thou  with  earnest  tone  didst  say, 
"  Mother,  let  Mary  be  her  name,  I  pray, 
For  dearly  do  I  love  to  think  upon 
That  gracious  Mother-Maid,  nursing  her  Holy  One." 

Then  in  delight,  as  now  in  woe, 
Thou  to  that  home  didst  turn, 
Where  God,  an  Infant,  dwelt  below  : 

The  thoughts  -that  ache  and  burn 
Nightly  within  thy  bosom,  find 
A  home  in  Nazareth  to  their  own  sweet  mind. 
.  More  than  all  music  are  the  soothings  dear 
Which  meet  thee  at  that  door,  and  whisper,  Christ  is 
here. 


Children's  Troubles.  155 


10. 


FIRE. 


"  The  Angel  of  the  Lord  made  the  midst  of  the  furnace  as  it  had  been 
i  moist  whistling  wind." 


Sweet  maiden,  for  so  cairn  a  life 
Too  bitter  seemed  thine  end  ; 

But  thou  hadst  won  thee,  ere  that  strife, 
A  more  than  earthly  friend. 

We  miss  thee  in  thy  place  at  school, 
And  on  thine  homeward  way. 

Where  violets  by  the  reedy  pool 
Peep  out  so  shyly  gay  : 

Where  thou,  a  true  and  gentle  guide, 
Wouldst  lead  thy  little  band, 

With  all  an  elder  sister's  pride, 
And  rule  with  eye  and  hand. 


156  Children's  1 roubles. 

And  if  we  miss,  O  who  may  speak 
What  thoughts  are  hovering  round 

The  pallet  where  thy  fresh  young  cheek 
Its  evening  slumber  found  ? 

How  many  a  tearful  longing  look 

In  silence  seeks  thee  yet, 
Where  in  its  own  familiar  nook 

Thy  fireside  chair  is  set  ? 

And  oft  when  little  voices  dim 

Are  feeling  for  the  note 
In  chanted  prayer,  or  psalm,  or  hymn, 

And  wavering  wildly  float, 

Comes  gushing  o'er  a  sudden  thought 

Of  her  who  led  the  strain, 
How  oft  such  music  home  she  brought— 

But  ne'er  shall  bring  again. 

O  say  not  so  !  the  springtide  air 
Is  fraught  with  whisperings  sweet  ; 

Who  knows  but  heavenly  carols  there 
With  ours  may  duly  meet  ? 


Fire.  157 

Who  knows  how  near,  each  holy  hour, 

The  pure  and  child-like  dead 
May  linger,  where  in  shrine  or  bower 

The  mourner's  prayer  is  said  ? 

And  He  who  will'd,  thy  tender  frame 

(O  stern  yet  sweet  decree  !) 
Should  wear  the  Martyr's  robe  of  flame, 

He  hath  prepar'd  for  thee 

A  garland  in  that  region  bright 

Where  infant  spirits  reign, 
Ting'd  faintly  with  such  golden  light 

As  crowns  His  Martyr  train. 

Nay,  doubt  it  not  :  His  tokens  sure 
Were  round  her  death-bed  shewn  : 

The  wasting  pain  might  not  endure, 
'Twas  calm  ere  life  had  flown, 

Even  as  we  read  of  Saints  of  yore  : 

Her  heart  and  voice  were  free 
To  crave  one  quiet  slumber  more 

Upon  her  Mother's  knee. 


158  Children  s  Troubles. 

11. 

PUNISHMENT. 

"  They  shall  accept  of  the  punishment  of  their  iniquity." 

The  scourge  in  hand  of  God  or  Man 

Full  deeply  tries  the  secret  soul. 
Yon  dark-eyed  maid,  her  bearing  scan  ; 
The  tear  that  from  beneath  her  quivering  eyelids  stole. 
The  shade,  that  hangs  e'en  now 
Upon  her  wistful  brow, — 
It  comes  not  all  of  shame  or  pain, 
But  she  with  pitying  heart  full  fain 
Would  twice  the  penance  burthen  bear, 
Might  she  the   chastening  arm,    so  lov'd  and  loving, 
spare. 

So  have  I  mark'd  some  faithful  hound, 

RecalTd  by  look  and  voice  severe, 
Come  conscious  of  his  broken  bound, 
And  lowly  cast  him  down  as  in  remorseful  fear. 
One  of  the  teachers  true 
Commission'd  to  imbue 


Punishment.  159 

Our  dull  hard  hearts  with  heavenly  skill, 
With  heavenly  love  our  proud  cold  will. 
How  seems  he  penance  to  implore, 
Patient  in  woe  decreed,  and  humbly  seeking  more  ! 

He  who  of  old  at  Caiaphas'  door 

Denied  th'  eternal  Holy  One, — 
In  words  denied,  but  own'd  in  store 
Of  penitential  tears — why  made  he  restless  moan, 
When  the  forgiving  Eye 
Had  beam'd  on  him  so  nigh, 
And  thrice,  for  his  denials  three, 
The  Lord  had  said,  My  Shepherd  be  ? 
Yet  were  his  waking  thoughts  self-blame, 
And  ever  with  cock-crowing  tearful  memory  came. 

For  should  the  soul  that  loves  indeed 

Stoop  o'er  the  edge  of  deadly  sin, 
And  e'er  so  lightly  taste  its  meed, — 
Though  wonder-working  grace  might  heal  the  wound 
within, 
Yet  may  the  scar  and  stain 
To  the  last  fire  remain, 


160  Children's  Troubles. 

And  Love  will  mourn  them  :  loyal  Love 
Will  for  the  Holy  Friend  above 
Lament  in  reverent  sympathy, 
Feeling  upon  her  heart  the  griev'd  and  gracious  Eye. 

Alas  for  sullen  souls,  that  turn 

Keen  wholesome  airs  to  poison  blight  ! 
Touch'd  with  Heaven's  rod,  in  ire  they  burn. 
Or  in  dim  anguish  writhe  :  beside  them  in  its  might 
The  saving  Cross  we  rear, 
They  neither  love  nor  fear  ; 
Each  from  his  own  unblessed  tree 
The  five  dread  wounds  unmov'd  they  see — 
O  hard  of  heart  ! — and  scornful  say, 
"  Saviour,   if  such   thou    be,  come  chase  pur   pangs 
away." 

Th'  impenitent  would  still  abate 

His  pain,  the  mourner  still  enhance. — 
O  Lord,  I  know  my  sin  is  great, 
I  would  not  hide  away  from  thee  in  heartless  trance  ; 
When  penal  lightnings  glare, 
O  give  me  grace,  to  bear 


Punishment.  161 

My  sinful  bosom  to  the  blast  ; — 
Nor,  when  the  judgment  hour  is  past. 
Bask  on  in  warmth  of  worldly  ease, 
But  hold  to  the  wrong'd  Cross  on  worn  and  aching 
knees. 


162  Children '$  Troubles. 


12. 

PENANCE. 

"  If  we  would  judge  ourselves,  we  should  not  be  judged." 

Thou,  who  with  eye  too  sad  and  wan 
Dost  on  the  memory  gaze 
Of  evil  days, 

Open  thy  casement,  moody  man, 
Look  out  into  the  midnight  air, 
And  taste  the  gushing  fragrance  there, 
Drink  of  the  balm  the  soft  winds  bear 

From  dewy  nook  and  flowery  maze  : 

They  rise  and  fall,  they  come  and  go, 
With  touch  ethereal  whispering  low 
Of  grace  to  penitential  woe, 
And  of  the  soothing  hand  that  Love  on  Conscience  lays. 

How  welcome,  in  the  sweet  still  hour, 
Falls  on  the  weary  heart, 
Listening  apart, 
Each  rustling  note  from  breeze  and  bower  : 


Penance.  163 

The  mimic  rain  mid  poplar  leaves, 
The  mist  drops  from  th'  overloaded  eaves, 
Sighs  that  the  herd  half-dreaming  heaves, 
Or  owlet  chanting  his  dim  part  ; 
Or  trickling  of  imprison'd  rill 
Heard  faintly  down  some  pastoral  hill, 
His  pledge,  who  rules  the  froward  will 
With  more  than  kingly  power,  with  more  than  wizard 
art  ! 

But  never  mourner's  ear  so  keen 

Watch'd  for  the  soothing  sounds 
That  walk  their  rounds 

Upon  the  moonlight  air  serene, 

As  the  bright  sentinels  on  high 
Stoop  to  receive  each  contrite  sigh, 
When  the  hot  world  hath  hurried  by, 

And  souls  have  time  to  feel  their  wounds. 
Nor  ever  tenderest  bosom  beat 
So  truly  to  the  noiseless  feet 
Of  shadows  that  from  light  clouds  fleet, 
Where  ocean  gently  rocks  within  his  summer  bounds, 


164  Children's  Troubles. 

As  Saints  around  the  Glory-Throne 
To  each  faint  sigh  respond 
And  yearning  fond 
Of  Penitents  that  inly  moan. 

O  surely  Love  adoring  there 
Is  quicken'd  to  intenser  prayer. 
When  youthful  hearts  are  fain  to  wear — 
Unbidden  wear — their  penance-bond  : 

When  stripling  grave  and  maiden  meek 
Forego  the  bright  hours  of  the  week. 
Nor  at  the  board  their  place  will  seek  : — 
"  Have   we    not  sinn'd  ?    and   sin  must   be    by   pain 
aton'd." 

Thrice  happy,  in  Repentance'  school 
So  early  taught  and  tried  ! 
At  Jesus'  side, 

And  by  His  dread  Fore-runner's  rule, 

Train'd  from  the  womb  !  nor  they  unblest, 
Who  underneath  the  world's  bright  vest 
With  sackcloth  tame  their  aching  breast. 

The  sharp -edged  cross  in  jewels  hide  : — 


Penance.  165 

Who  day  by  day  and  year  by  year 
Survey  the  Past  with  deepening  fear, 
Yet  hourly  with  more  hopeful  ear 
To  the  dim  Future  turn,  th'  absolving  voice  abide. 

Not  as  lost  Esau  mourn'd,  they  mourn  ; 

No  loud  and  bitter  cry 
They  cast  on  high  : 
But  on  through  silent  air  is  borne 

The  fragrance  of  their  tearful  love 

To  the  Redeemer's  feast  above. 

Fresher  than  steam  of  dewy  grove, 
"When  April  showers  are  twinkling  nigh, 

To  aged  husbandman  at  eve, 

Is  the  sweet  breath  the  Heavens  receive 

When  bosoms  with  confession  heave, 
When  lowly  Magdalen  hath  won  her  Saviour's  eye. 


166 


F£,  €t)iinvtn98  &)?ovtz. 


GARDENING. 

"  He  that  is  faithful  in  that  which  is  least  is  faithful  also  in  much." 

Seest  thou  von  woodland  child, 
How  amid  flowerets  wild, 
Wilder  himself,  he  plies  his  pleasure -task  ? 
That  ring  of  fragrant  ground, 
With  its  low  woodbine  bound 
He  claims  :  no  more,  as  yet,  his  little  heart  need  ask. 

There  learns  he  flower  and  weed        » 
To  sort  with  careful  heed  : 
He  waits  not  for  the  weary  noontide  hour. 
There  with  the  soft  night  air 
Comes  his  refreshing  care  : 
Each   tiny  leaf   looks  up,   and    thanks   him    for    the 
shower. 


Gardening.  lf',7 

Thus  faithful  found  awhile. 
He  wins  the  joyous  smile 
Of  friend  or  parent  ;  glad  and  bright  is  he, 
When  for  his  garland  gay 
He  hears  the  kind  voice  say, 
*•  Well  hast  thou  wrought,  dear  boy  :  the  garden  thine 
shall  be." 

And  when  long  years  are  flown, 
And  the  proud  word,  Mine  Own, 
Familiar  sounds,  what  joy  in  field  or  bower 
To  view  by  Memory's  aid 
Again  that  garden  glade, 
And  muse  on  all  the  lore  there  learned  in  each  bright 
hour  ! 

Is  not  a  life  well-spent 
A  child's  play-garden,  lent 
For  Heaven's  high  trust  to  train  young  heart  and 
limb  ? 
When  in  yon  field  on  high 
Our  hard-won  powers  we  try, 
Will  no  mild  tones  of  earth  blend  with  the  adoring 
hymn  ? 


i 


168 


Children's  Sports. 


O  fragrant,  sure,  will  prove 
The  breath  of  patient  Love, 
Even  from  these  fading  sweets  by  Memory  cast, 
As  deepening  evermore 
To  Him  our  song  we  pour, 
Who  lent  us  Earth,  that  he  might  give  us  Heaven  at 
last. 


Children's  Sports,  169 


2. 


MAY  GARLANDS. 

'•  The  sun  is  no  sooner  risen  with  a  burning  heat,  but  it  withereth  the 
grass,  and  the  flower  thereof  falleth,  and  the  grace  of  the  fashion  of  it 
perisheth." 

Co:ue,  ye  little  revellers  gay. 
Learners  in  the  school  of  May, 
Bring  me  here  the  richest  crown 
Wreathed  this  morn  on  breezy  down, 
Or  in  nook  of  copsewood  green, 
Or  by  river's  rushy  screen, 
Or  in  sunny  meadow  wide, 
Gemmed  with  cowslips  in  their  pride  ; 
Or  perchance,  high  prized  o'er  all, 
From  beneath  the  southern  wall, 
From  the  choicest  garden  bed, 
'Mid  bright  smiles  of  infants  bred, 
Each  a  lily  of  his  own 
Offering,  or  a  rose  half-blown. 


170  Children's  Sports. 

Bring  me  now  a  crown  as  gay, 
Wreathed  and  woven  yesterday. 
Where  are  now  those  forms  so  fair  ? — 
Withered,  drooping,  wan  and  bare, 
Feeling  nought  of  earth  or  sky, 
Shower  or  dew,  behold  they  lie,     ■ 
Vernal  airs  no  more  to  know  : — 
They  are  gone — and  ye  must  go, 
Go  where  all  that  ever  bloomed, 
In  its  hour  must  lie  entombed. — 
They  are  gone  ;  their  light  is  o'er  : — 
Ye  must  go  ;  but  ye  once  more 
Hope  in  joy  to  be  new-born, 
Lovelier  than  May's  gleaming  morn.  • 

Hearken,  children  of  the  May, 
Now  in  your  glad  hour  and  gay, 
Ye  whom  all  good  Angels  greet  * 
With  their  treasures  blithe  and  sweet  :- 
None  of  all  the  wreaths  ye  prize 
But  was  nursed  by  weeping  skies. 
Keen  March  winds,  soft  April  showers, 
Braced  the  roots,  embalmed  the  flowers. 


May  Garlands.  171 

So,  if  e'er  that  second  spring 

Her  green  robe  o'er  you  shall  fling, 

Stern  self-mastery,  tearful  prayer, 

Must  the  way  of  bliss  prepare. 

How  should  else  Earth's  flowerets  prove 

Meet  for  those  pure  crowns  above  ? 


172  Children's  Sports. 


SUNDAY  NOSEGAYS. 

•'  Whosoever  exalteth  himself  shall  be  abased." 

Ye  children  that  on  Jesus  wait, 
Gathering  around  His  temple  gate 

To  learn  His  word  and  will, 
For  glory  hungered  and  athirst, — 
Which  of  you  all  would  fain  be  first  ? 

Come  here  and  take  your  fill. 

Come,  still  and  pure  as  drops  of  dew, 
Come  to  the  feast  prepared  for  you, 

Your  prayer  in  silence  breathe  ; — 
Seek  the  last  room,  the  scorn'd  of  all  : 
If  that  be  filled,  adoring  fall 

The  Holy  Board  beneath. 

Not  to  the  quick  untrembling  gaze, 
The  heart  that  bounds  at  human  praise, 
Loves  he  to  say,  Go  higher. 


Sunday  Nosegays.  173 

But  most  He  turns  His  face  away. 
When  envy's  sidelong  eyes  betray 
The  foul  unhallowed  fire. 

Say,  little  maids  that  love  the  spring, 
Of  all  the  fragrant  gems  ye  bring, 

For  bower  or  bridal  wreath, 
Is  aught  so  fair  as  violets  shy, 
Betraying  where  they  lowly  lie 

By  the  soft  airs  they  breathe  ? 

Oft  as  with  mild  caressing  hand 
Ye  cull  and  bind  in  tender  band 

Those  bashful  flowers  so  sweet — 
With  many  a  Sunday  smile, — to  rest 
Upon  some  loved  and  honoured  breast, 

A  welcome  gift  and  meet. 

Ye  to  the  Heaven-taught  soul  present 
A  token  and  a  sacrament, 

How  to  the  highest  room 
Earth's  lowliest  flowers  our  Lord  receives  ; — 
Close*  to  His  heart  a  place  He  gives, 

Where  they  shall  ever  bloom. 


174  Children's  Sports. 


DRESSING  UP. 


'  Put  on  the  whole  armour  of  God." 


Great  is  the  joy  when  leave  is  won, 

On  sun -bright  holiday, 
To  deck  some  passive  little  one 

In  fancy  garments  gay  : 

Whether  it  be  a  bright-haired  boy 
With  brow  so  bold  and  high, 

Or  maiden  elf  with  aspect  coy, 
Grave  lip  and  laughing  eye. 

What  flashes  of  quick  thought  are  there, 
What  deep  delight  and  pride  ! 

Till  the  whole  house  the  wonder  share 
From  room  to  room  they  glide. 


Dressing  up.  1 , 5 

You  smile,  their  eager  ways  to  see  : — 

But  mark  their  choice,  when  they 
To  choose  their  sportive  garb  are  tree. 

The  moral  of  their  play. 

In  semblance  proud  of  warrior's  mail 

The  stripling  shall  appear, 
The  maiden  meek  in  robe  and  veil 

Shall  mimic  bridal  gear. 

All  thoughtless  they,  to  thoughtful  eyes 

Love-tokens  high  present  : — 
The  Bride  descending  from  the  skies, 

The  mail  in  Baptism  lent. 

Yes  :  fearless  may  he  lift  the  brow, 

Who  bears,  unstained  and  bright, 
By  touch  of  Angels  sealed  e'en  now, 

His  Saviour's  Cross  of  might. 

Eadiant  may  be  her  glance  of  mirth. 

Who  wears  her  chrisom-vest 
Pure  as  when  first  at  her  new  birth 

It  wrapt  her  tender  breast. 


176 


Children's  Sports. 


O,  if  so  fair  the  first  dim  ray 
In  Jesus'  morn  of  grace, 

How  will  it  glow,  His  perfect  Day, 
On  our  triumphant  race  ! 

If  but  His  banner's  hovering  shade 
May  scare  the  infernal  band, 

How  blest,  who  to  the  end  arrayed 
In  His  full  armour  stand  ! 


Then  haste,  young  warrior,  year  by  year, 

And  day  by  day,  and  hour 
By  hour,  His  armoury  to  draw  near, 

And  don  His  robes  of  Power. 

Thy  girdle,  Truth — to  hate  a  lie  : — 

Then,  purpose  high  of  soul 
In  Righteousness  to  live  and  die, 

Thy  breastplate,  firm  and  whole. 

Then,  heavenly  Calmness,  lest  thou  fall 
Where  scandals  line  the  way  ; 

Faith  in  the  Unseen,  thy  shield  o'er  all, 
Each  fiery  dart  to  stay. 


Dressing  up.  Ill 

Hope  in  His  gift,  thine  helmet  sure, 

Trust  in  His  living  Word 
Thy  weapon  keen,  to  chase  the  impure. 

His  Spirit's  awful  sword. 

This  is  thine  armour,  bathed  in  heaven  : 

Keep  thou  by  prayer  and  fast 
Thy  Saviour's  seal,  so  early  given  : — 

All  shall  be  thine  at  last. 


178  Children's  Sports. 


5. 


PEBBLES  ON  THE  SHORE. 

"  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters,  and  he  that  hath 
no  money  ;  come  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea,  come,  buy  wine  and  milk  without 
money  and  without  price." 

Not  undelightful  prove 

The  rounds  of  restless  love, 
When  high  and  low  she  searches,  mine  and  mart, 

And  turns  and  tosses  o'er 

Some  crowned  merchant's  store, 
And  scarce  fit  token  finds  of  the  full  yearning  heart. 

Yet  in  Heaven's  searching  beam 

As  bright  may  haply  seem 
A  child's  unpurchased  offering,  stone  or  shell, 

Found  by  some  joyous  crew 

Glittering  with  ocean  dew, 
Where  feathery  lines  of  spray  the  waves'  last  boundary 
tell. 


Pebbles  on  the  Shore.  179 

Behold  them,  how  they  dance 

Beneath  the  breezy  glance 
Of  April  morn,  or  fresh  October  noon  ; — 

How  on  the  twinkling  sand, 

In  many  a  fairy  band, 
They  leave  their  foot-prints  light,  to  turn  and  count 
them  soon. 

What  if  some  nursing  friend 

His  sportive  counsel  lend 
To  sort  the  treasure,  wreathe  the  chaplet  gay. 

Coral  or  crimson  weed  ? — 

Then  is  it  joy  indeed, 
When  he  to  mind  recalls  some  comrade  far  away. 

Oh  then  how  bright  arise 

To  fancy's  quick  young  eyes 
The  smiles  that  o'er  the  kindling  brow  will  spread, 

When  on  the  nursery  floor 

They  range  their  bounteous  store, 
Precious  to  them  as  pearls  from  India's  ocean-bed  ! 


180  Children's  Sports. 

What  though  unseen,  unbought 

By  money,  toil,  or  thought, 
Those  simple  offerings — come  they  not  of  Love  ? 

Love  gives,  and  Love  will  take. 

Such  are  the  vows  we  make 
To   the    dread   Bethlehem   Babe,   nor   He  will   them 
reprove. 

What  is  a  royal  crown. 

Or  first-born  babe,  cast  down 
Before  His  Cradle,  to  one  heavenly  smile  ? 

"We  may  not  buy  nor  earn, 

But  He  toward  us  will  turn 
Of  His  own  Love  :  but  we  must  kneel   in  Love  the 
while. 

Thus  learn  we  Bounty's  lore 

Along  the  unbounded  shore  : — 
And  even  beneath  the  mists  which  man  hath  made, 

Where  Mammon  walks  the  street. 

We  light  on  memories  sweet 
Of  a  dread  Bargain  sealed,  a  countless  Ransom  paid. 


Pebbles  on  the  Shore.  181 

We  hear  the  frequent  cry, 
"  Approach,  ye  poor,  and  buy, 

Buy  of  the  best  for  nought  :" — and  dreams  arise 

Of  yon  supernal  Home, 
And  Angel  voices — "  Come, 
Come  to  the  Living  Wells,  buy  without  gold  or  price. 

"  Come  to  the  true  Vine's  shade. 

There  in  contrition  laid 
Drink  of  the  drops  He  in  your  cup  shall  press. 

Come  to  the  quiet  fold, 

And  while  the  lambs  are  told, 
Taste  the  pure  treasure  of  the  pastoral  wilderness." 

The  homeless  and  forlorn 

In  cities, — think  they  scorn 
Freely  to  quaff  the  fountain's  unbought  store  ? 

Freely  to  learn  the  song 

It  warbles  all  night  long 
In  murmurings  such  as  sooth'd  their  cradle  dreams  of 
yore  ? 


182  Children's  Sports. 


6. 

BATHING. 

'•  Lord,  if  it  be  Thou,  bid  me  come  unto  Thee  on  the  vYater." 

The  May  winds  gently  lift  the  willow  leaves  ; 

Around  the  rushy  point  comes  weltering  alow 
The  brimming  stream  ;  alternate  sinks  and  heaves 
The  lily-bud,  where  small  waves  ebb  and  flow. 
TTillowherb  and  meadowsweet  ! 
Ye  the  soft  gales,  that  visit  there, 

From  your  waving  censers  greet 
With  store  of  freshest  balmiest  air. 

Come  bathe — the  steaming  noontide  hour  invites  ; 
Even  in  your  face  the  sparkling  waters  smile. — 
Yet  on  the  brink  they  linger,  timid  wights, 

Pondering  and  measuring  ;  on  their  gaze  the  while 
Eddying  pool  and  shady  creek 
Darker  and  deeper  seem  to  grow  : 
On  and  onward  still,  they  seek 
Where  sport  may  less  adventurous  show. 


Bathing.  183 

At  length  the  boldest  springs  :  but  ere  he  cleave 

The  flashing  waters,  eye  and  thought  grow  dim  ; 
Too  rash  it  seems,  the  firm  green  earth  to  leave  : 
Heaven  is  beneath  him  :  shall  he  sink  or  swim  r 
Far  in  boundless  depth  he  sees 
The  rushing  clouds  obey  the  gale, 

Trembling  hands  and  tottering  knees. 
All  in  that  dizzy  moment  fail. 

(Jh  mark  him  well,  ye  candidates  of  Heaven, 

Called  long  ago  to  float  in  Jesus'  ark 
Ye  know  not  where  : — His  signal  now  is  given, 
The  Lord  draws  near  upon  the  waters  dark  : 
To  your  eager  prayer  the  Voice 
Makes  awful  answer  :  "  Come  to  Me  : 

Once  for  all  now  seal  your  choice, 
With  Christ  to  tread  the  boisterous  sea." 

And  dare  we  come  ?    since  he,  the  trusted  Saint. 

Who  with  one  only  shared  the  Lord's  high  love. 
Shrank  from  the  tossing  gale,  and  scarce  with  faint 

And  feeble  cry  toward  the  Saviour  strove. 


LS4  Children's  Sports. 

Yes  :  we  answer  the  dread  call, 
Not  tearless,  but  in  duteous  awe  : 

He  will  stay  the  frail  heart's  fall, 
His  arm  will  onward,  upward  draw. 

O  thou  of  little  faith,  why  didst  thou  doubt  ? 

Spare  not  for  Him  to  walk  the  midnight  wave. 
On  the  dim  shore  at  morn  to  seek  Him  out.* 

Work  'neath   His   Eye,   and  near   Him   make    thy 
grave. 
So  backslidings  past  no  more 
Shall  in  the  Heavens  remembered  be, 

Faith  the  Three  Denials  sore 
O'erpaying  with  Confessions  Three. 

Strange  power  of  mighty  Love  !  if  Heaven  allow 

Choiee,  on  the  restless  waters  rather  found, 
Meeting  her  Lord,  with  eross  and  bleeding  brow, 
Than  calmly  waiting  on  the  guarded  ground  ! 
Yearning  ever  to  spring  forth 
And  feel  the  cold  waves  for  His  sake  : — 

All  her  giving  of  no  worth, 
Yet,  till  she  give,  her  heart  will  ache. 

*  St.  John  xxi. 


IrerCs  Sports.  L85 


EXACTING  HOLY  RITES. 

'•  Thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast    re- 
vealed them  unto  babes." 

They  talk  of  wells  in  caverns  deep. 

Whose  waters  run  a  wondrous  race 
Far  underground,  and  issuing  keep 

Our  floating  tokens,  bright  or  base. 
So  in  the  child's  light  play  we  read 
The  portion  to  the  man  decreed  ; 
His  future  self  he  hastes  to  prove 
In  art,  in  toil,  in  warfare,  or  in  love. 

Those  waves  emerging  far  away. 

True  to  their  fount,  the  likeness  bear 
Of  fancies  nurtur'd  many  a  day. 

How  in  the  end  their  course  they  wear 
Into  the  light  of  Manhood  free  : 
The  hidden  soul  breaks  out,  and  we 
In  careless  mien,  in  careworn  face, 
The  lon^-forgotten  Infant  wondering:  trace. 


186  Children's  Sports. 

Oh,  many  a  jo}rous  mother's  brow 

Is  sadclen'd  o'er  when  sports  are  rife, 
And  watching  by,  she  seems  e'en  now 
The  tale  to  read  of  coming  strife. 
Through  lawless  camp,  o'er  ocean  wild, 
Her  prophet  eye  pursues  her  child, 
Scans  mournfully  her  Poet's  strain, 
Fears,  for  her  Merchant,  loss  alike  and  gain. 

But  if  a  holier  task  engage 

©  © 

His  busy  dream, — if  clad  in  white 
She  see  him  turn  some  hallow'd  page, 

Dimly  enact  some  awful  rite, — 
Then  high  beyond  the  loftiest  Heaven 
The  flight  that  to  her  hopes  is  given, 
And  darker  than  the  gloomiest  deep 
The  fears  that  in  her  boding  bosom  creep. 

She  sees  in  heart  an  empty  Throne, 
And  falling,  falling  far  away, 

Him  whom  the  Lord  had  placed  thereon  : 
She  hears  the  dread  Proclaimer  say, 


Enacting  Holy  Rites.  187 

"  Cast  ye  the  lot,  in  trembling  cast  ;* 
The  Traitor  to  his  place  hath  past." — 
Strive  ye  with  Prayer  and  Fast  to  guide 
The  dangerous  Glory  where  it  shall  abide  : 

Guide  it  towards  some  serious  brow, 
In  love  and  patience  lowly  bent, 

Some  youthful  Athanase,f  e'en  now 
Upon  his  future  task  intent  ; 

His  Creed  rehearsing  to  the  roar 

Of  billows  on  the  lonely  shore, 

Or  with  a  child's  deep  earnestness 

Showing  his  mates  how  Saints  baptize  and  bless. 

*  Acts  i. 
•'  t  Alexander,  Bishop  of  Alexandria,  on  a  certain  day  being  in  his  own 
house,  cast  his  eyes  towards  the  sea,  and  seeing  afar  off  boys  playing  on 
the  shore,  and  enacting  a  Bishop  and  the  customs  of  the  Church,  as  long 
as  he  saw  nothing  too  adventurous  in  their  play,  was  pleased  with  what  he 
saw.  and  amused  himself  with  their  doings.  But  when  they  touched  even 
upon  the  Mysteries,  he  was  troubled,  and  summoning  the  Clergy,  made 
them  observe  the  boys  :  whom  having  caused  to  be  brought  before  him,  he 
interrogated  about  their  play,  and  the  kind  of  things  said  and  done 
therein  ;.. and  they  informed  him  that  Athanasius  was  their  Bishop  and 
director,  and  that  he  had  baptized  some  of  the  lads  who  were  unchrist- 
ened.  Of  these  Alexander  made  careful  inquiry,  what  had  been  asked 
of  them,  or  done  to  them,  by  him  who  was  Priest  in  their  game,  and 
what  they  answered,  and  were  taught  to  say.     And  finding  that  all  the 


188 


Children's  Sports. 


She  hears  :  one  glance, — how  brief  and  keen  ! — 

As  with  a  lightning  touch  reveals 
Her  Saint  upon  his  path  serene  ; 

With  all  her  heart  his  vow  she  seals. 
With  all  her  heart  the  prayer  prolongs, 
That  round  him  still  the  Watchers'  songs 
Echoing  may  purge  the  hallow'd  air," 
And  from  his  soul  the  dreams  of  Judas  scare. 


Ever  in  hope  and  agony 

She  prays  : — in  hope  when  most  he  fears, 
In  trembling  when  his  hopes  mount  high. 

Far,  far  away  she  feels,  not  hears 
A  deep  chord  thrill,  an  answering  note 
Go  forth  in  Heaven,  and  earthward  float. 
Her  Guardian  Angel  wafts  it  nigh, 
But  more  it  breathes  than  Angel  sympathy. 

order  of  the  Church  had  been  accurately  observed  in  their  case,  he 
deemed,  on  consulting  with  the  Priests  about  him,  that  there  was  no 
need  to  rebaptize  such  as  had  once  for  all  received  the  grace  of  God  in 
simplicity.  Only  he  performed  for  them  the  other  ceremonies,  which  . 
the  Priests  alone  may  lawfully  minister  in  the  Sacraments.  Moreover. 
Athanasius  and  the  other  boys,  who  in  their  sport  were  Priests  and 
Deacons,  he  commended  to  their  respective  kinsmen,  calling  God  to 
witness  ;  to  be  nurtured  for  the  Church,  and  trained  to  that  which  they 
had  enacted.."     Sozmnen.  Eccl.  Hist.  i.  17. 


Enacting  Holy  Bites.  18$ 

Yea,  gloom  was  on  the  Source  of  Light."1 

A  trouble  at  Joy's  very  heart. 
When  with  the  Traitor  in  His  sight 

Hi>  secret  sad  He  told  apart. 
And  when  He  spake  of  treasures  seal'd 
To  proud  wise  men,  to  babes  reveal'd.f 
From  His  celestial  aspect  fell 
A  lightning  as  in  Heaven,  a  bliss  ineffable. 

These  are  Thy  signs.  Thou  Shepherd  good, 
To  Daring  and  to  Meekness  given  : 

To  babes  of  mild,  self-chastening  mood, 

Whispering  their  part  in  chants  of  Heaven. 

"  Else.*'  warning  Love  cries  out,  "  beware 

Of  Chancel  screen  and  Altar  stair." 

Love  interceding  kneels  in  fear. 

Lest  to  the  Pure  th'  unholy  draw  too  near. 

lohnxiii.  SI.  f  s*-  Matt.  z 


190 


F&    Wessons  of  Nature. 


i. 


VERNAL  MIRTH. 

"  Behold  the  fig-tree,  and  all  the  trees  ;  when  they  now  shoot  forth,  ye 
see  and  know  of  your  own  selves,  that  summer  is  now  nigh  at  hand." 

What  is  the  joy  the  young  lambs  know, 

When  vernal  breezes  blow  ? 
Why  carol  out  so  blithe  and  free 
The  little  birds  from  every  leafless  tree  ? 

Why  bound  so  high  the  boys  at  play 

On  grass  so  green  and  gay  ? 
From  nursing  arms,  his  proper  throne, 
Why  rings  so  clear  yon  infant's  joyous  tone  ? 


Vernal  Mirth.  191 

The  life  that  in  them  deeply  dwells 

Of  genial  spring-tide  tells  : 
Of  their  own  selves  they  see  and  know 
To  what  glad  tune  the  summer  brooks  shall  now. 

Be  thou  through  life  a  little  child  ; 
By  manhood  undefiled  ; 
So  shall  no  Angel  grudge  thy  dreams 
Of  fragrance  pure  and  ever  brightening  beams. 


1(j2  Lessons  of  Nature. 


THE  BIRD'S  NEST. 
"  As  an  eagle  stirreth  up  her  nest,  so  the  Lord  alone  did  lead  him.' 

Behold  the  treasure  of  the  nest, 

The  winged  mother's  hope  and  pride  : 

See  how  they  court  her  downy  br< 
How  soft  they  slumber,  side  by  side. 

Strong  is  the  life  that  nestles  there. 

But  into  motion  and  delight 
It  may  not  burst,  till  soft  as  air 

It  feel  Love's  brooding,  timely  might. 

Even  such  a  blissful  nest  I  deem 
The  cradle  of  the  Lord's  new-born. 

"Where  deeply  lurks  the  living  beam 
Lit  in  the  glad  baptismal  morn. 


The  Bird's  Nest.  193 

But  into  keen  enduring  flame 

It  may  not  burst,  till  heavenly  Love 

Have  o'er  it  spread,  in  Christ's  dear  Name, 
The  pinions  of  His  brooding  Dove. — 

Now  steal  once  more  across  the  lawn, 
Stoop  gently  through  the  cypress  bough, 

And  mark  which  way  life's  feeble  dawn 
Works  in  their  little  hearts,  and  how. 

Still  close  and  closer,  as  you  pry, 

They  nestle  'neath  their  mother's  plume, 

Or  with  a  faint  forlorn  half-cry, 
Shivering  bewail  her  empty  room. 

Or  haply,  as  the  branches  wave, 

The  little  round  of  tender  bills 
Is  raised,  the  due  repast  to  crave 

Of  her  who  all  their  memory  fills. 

Hast  thou  no  wisdom  here  to  learn, 

Thou  nestling  of  the  Holy  Dove, 
How  hearts  that  with  the  true  life  burn 

Live  by  the  pulse  of  filial  love  ? 


194  Lessons  of  Nature. 

When  sorrow  comes  to  thy  calm  nest, 
Early  or  late,  as  come  it  will, 

Think  of  yon  brood,  yon  downy  breast, 
And  hide  thee  deep  in  Jesus'  will. 

By  morning  and  by  evening  moan, 
As  doves  beneath  the  cedar  spray, 

Make  thou  thy  fearful  longings  known 
To  Him  who  is  not  far  away. 

Him  Cherub -borne  in  royal  state, 
The  food  of  His  Elect  to  be, 

With  eager  lip  do  thou  await, 

And  veiled  brow,  and  trembling  knee. 

So  underneath  the  warm  bright  wing, 
The  hidden  grace  of  thy  new  birth 

Shall  gather  might  to  soar  and  sing, 
Where'er  He  bids,  in  heaven  or  earth. 


Lessons  of  Nature.  195 


3. 


THE  MOTHER  BIRD  WITH  HER  YOUNG. 

"  How  often  would  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen 
gathereth  her  chickens  under  her  wings,  and  ye  would  not  !" 

The  Lord  who  lends  His  creatures  all 

A  tongue  to  preach  His  will — 
To  Salem  came  His  mournful  call, 
His  last  sad  word  to  Sion's  wall, 

From  the  green  Eastern  hill. 

The  little  children  waiting  by 

Wondered  to  see  Him  weep. 
The  louder  swelled  their  duteous  cry, 
As  He  in  lowliest  majesty 

Rode  down  the  shady  steep. 

Thy  little  heart,  so  wild  and  weak, 

Perhaps  is  musing  now, 
"  Had  I  the  joy  to  hear  Him  speak, 
To  see  that  Eye,  so  heavenly  meek, 

Sure  I  should  keep  my  vow." 


196  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Nay,  in  that  hour  He  thought  on  thee. 

And  left  a  token  sure, 
Ever  in  times  of  vernal  glee 
Around  thee  in  thy  walks  to  be, 

And  keep  thee  kind  and  pure. 

Look  how  the  Hen  invites  her  brood 

Beneath  her  wing  to  lie, 
Look  how  she  calls  them  to  their  food, 
How  eyes,  in  eager,  dauntless  mood, 

The  wheeling  hawk  on  high. 

So  would  thy  Lord  His  pinions  spread 

Around  thee,  night  and  day, 
So  lead  thee,  where  is  heavenly  Bread, 
So,  by  the  Cross  whereon  He  bled, 
The  spoiler  scare  away. 

But  be  thou  gathered  : — one  and  all 

Those  simple  nestlings  see, 
How  hurrying  at  their  mother's  call, 
To  their  one  home,  whatever  befall, 
In  faith  entire  they  flee. 


Lessons  of  Nature.  VM 


NOONTIDE. 

"  They  looked  steadfastly  toward  Heaven,  as  He  went  up.' 

The  shepherd  boy  lies  on  the  hill 

At  noon  with  upward  eye  ; 
Deep  on  his  gaze  and  deeper  still 

Ascends  the  clear  blue  sky. 

You  pass  him  by,  and  deem  perchance 

He  lies  but  half  awake, 
And  picture  in  what  airy  trance 

His  soul  may  sport  or  ache. 

Full  wakeful  he,  both  eye  and  heart. 

For  he  a  cloud  hath  seen 
Into  that  waste  of  air  depart, 

As  bark  in  ocean  green. 


198  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Tis  gone,  and  he  is  musing  left  ; — 

What  if  in  such  array 
Our  Saviour  through  the  aerial  cleft 

Rose  on  Ascension  Day  ? 

That  hour,  a  glorious  cloud,  we  know, 
Hid  Him  from  human  sight, 

While  pastoral  eyes  were  strained  below 
To  trace  Him  through  the  light. 

Oh  if  but  once  such  awful  thought, 

In  sleep  or  waking  dream, 
At  night  or  noontide,  came  unsought, 

Like  haunting  sound  of  stream, 

Surely  thou  durst  not  let  it  go  ; 

Oft  as  thine  eye  shall  turn 
Where  overhead  the  clear  deeps  glow, 

Thine  heart  must  inly  burn, 

Wondering  what  mortal  first  shall  view 

The  dread  returning  sign, 
When  the  strong  portals,  raised  anew, 

Disclose  the  march  divine. 


Noontide,  199 

Blest  shall  he  be,  that  sinner's  child, 

If  upward  in  that  tide 
His  eye  be  turned,  nor  wandering  wild, 

Nor  closed  in  inward  pride. 

Blest,  if  the  glory  o'er  him  break 

Through  chancel  roof,  or  where 
Some  mourner's  bed  good  Angels  make, 

And  Pain  is  soothed  by  Prayer. 


i 


200  Lessons  of  Nature. 


THE  GLEANERS. 

The  Church  is  one  wide  Harvest  Field,    " 
Where  Time  and  Death  are  gathering  in 
Rich  blessings  by  the  Almighty  Owner  sealed 
For  spirits  meet  His  pardoning  word  to  win. 

We  are  as  children  :  here  and  there 
A  few  fallen  ears,  the  sheaves  among, 
We  glean,  where  best  the  bounteous  Hand  may  spare, 
So  learning  for  His  perfect  store  to  long. 

Come,  little  ones, — come  early  out. 
Come  joyous,  come  with  steady  heart. 
Roam  not  to  seek  wild  flowers  the  field  about. 
Nor  yet  at  dreams  of  fancied  vipers  start. 


The  Gleaners.  201 

The  sun  of  Autumn  climbs  full  fast  : 
He  will  have  quaffed  each  drop  of  dew. 
Ere  half  the  fragrant,  heathy  lane  be  passed, 
The  lingerers,  they  will  find  scant  ears  and  few. 

Come,  quit  your  toys,  and  haste  away. 
But  mark  :  ye  may  not  leave  behind 
Your  store  of  smiles,  your  gladsome  talk  and  gay. 
Your    pure    thoughts,  fashioned   to   your    Master's 
mind. 

Blithe  be  your  course,  yet  bear  in  heart 
The  lame  and  old,  and  help  them  on  ; 
Full  handfuls  drop,  where  they  may  take  a  part, 
As  high  will  swell  your  heap  when  day  is  done. 

Yon  slumbering  infant  in  the  shade, — 
Grudge  not  one  hour  on  him  to  wait 
"While  others  glean.     The  work  with  singing  aid, 
With  ready  mirth  all  sharper  tones  abate. 

Sing  softly  in  your  heart  all  day 
Sweet  carols  to  the  Harvest's  Lord, 
So  shall  ye  chase  those  evil  powers  away 

That  walk  at  noon — rude  craze  and  wanton  word. 


202 


Lessons  of  Nature. 


But  see  the  tall  elm  shadows  reach 
Athwart  the  field,  the  rooks  fly  home, 
The  light  streams  gorgeous  up  the  o'er-arching  beech, 
With  the  calm  hour  soft  weary  fancies  come. 


In  heaven  the  low  red  harvest  moon, 
The  glow-worm  on  the  dewy  ground, 
Will  light  us  home  with  our  glad  burdens  soon  ; 
Grave  be  our  evening  prayers,  our  slumbers  sound. 


Lessons  of  Nature.  203 


6. 


AUTUMN  BUDS. 

■  The  children  crying  in  the  Temple,  Hosanna  to  the  Son  of  David.' 

How  fast  these  autumn  leaves  decay  ! — 
But  nearer  view  the  naked  spray, 
And  many  a  bud  thine  eye  will  meet 
Prepared  with  ready  smile  to  greet 

The  showers  and  gleams  of  spring. 

Such  buds  of  hope  are  Advent  hours  : 
Ere  the  Old  Year  its  leaves  and  flowers 
Have  shed,  the  New  in  promise  lives  ; 
Christmas  afar  glad  token  gives, 
Soft  carols  faintly  ring. 

So  when  our  Lord  in  meekness  rode 
Where  few  save  wintry  hearts  abode, 
Each  leaf  on  Judah's  sacred  tree 
Was  withered,  wan,  and  foul  to  see, 
Touched  by  the  frost -wind's  wing. 


204  Lessons  of  Wat u re. 

Yet  lurk'd  there  tender  gems  beneath. 
Ere  long  to  bloom  in  glorious  wreath. 
While  Priest  and  Scribe  looked  on  and  frowned, 
His  little  ones  came  chanting  round 
Hosanna  to  their  King. 


Lessons  of  Nature.  205 

7. 

THE  OAK. 

"  What  went  ye  out  into  the  wilderness  to  see  ?  A  reed  shaken  with  the 
wind  ?". 

Come  take  a  woodland  walk  with  me, 
And  mark  the  rugged  old  Oak  Tree, 
How  steadily  his  arm  he  flings 
Where  from  the  bank  the  fresh  rill  springs, 
And  points  the  waters'  silent  way 
Down  the  wild  maze  of  reed  and  spray. 
Two  furlongs  on  they  glide  unseen, 
Known  only  by  the  livelier  green. 

There  stands  he,  in  each  time  and  tide, 
The  new-born  streamlet's  guard  and  guide. 
To  him  spring  shower  and  summer  sun, 
Brown  autumn,  winter's  sleet,  are  one. 
But  firmest  in  the  bleakest  hour 
He  holds  his  root  in  faith  and  power, 
The  splinter'd  bark,  his  girdle  stern, 
His  robe,  grey  moss  and  mountain  fern. 


206  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Mark'st  thou  in  him  no  token  true 

Of  heaven's  own  Priests,  both  old  and  new 

In  penitential  garb  austere 

Fix'd  in  the  wild,  from  year  to  year 

The  lessons  of  stern  love  to  teach, 

To  penitents  and  children  preach, 

Bold  words  and  eager  glances  stay, 

And  gently  level  Jesus'  way  ? 


Lessons  of  Nature.  207 


THE  PALM. 


"  Palma  virens  semper  manet  conservatione  et  diutumitate,  non  ira- 
mutatione  foliorum."—  St.  Ambrose,  Hexaemeron,  iii.  71. 


Why  of  all  the  woodland  treasure, 
Holy  Palm,  art  thou  preferred, 
When  the  voice  of  praise  is  heard, 

When  we  tread  our  thankful  measure  ? 
Why  before  our  Saviour  borne  ? 
Why  by  glorious  Spirits  worn  ? 

Is  it  for  thy  verdure,  brightest 

In  the  zone  of  colours  bright  ? 
Or  that  with  aerial  height 

Thou  the  genial  clime  requitest, 

Like  courageous  mountain  maid, 
Nor  of  sun  nor  air  afraid  ? 


208  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Is  it  that  in  antique  story 

Conquerors  own'd  thee  for  their  meed  ? 

Nay.  thine  honours  are  decreed 
For  thy  green  unchanging  glory. 

Wearing  thy  first  leafy  crown. 

Till  thy  vigorous  life  die  down. 

Pines  may  tower,  and  laurels  flourish — 
.     Deathless  green  is  only  thine  ; 
Type  of  hearts  which  airs  divine 

Cheer,  and  high  communions  nourish. 
Hearts  on  whose  pure  virgin  wreath 
Sin  indulsr'd  rni^ht  never  breathe. 


Lessons  of  JKature.  209 


9. 

THE  WATERFALL. 

"  Ye  also  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up,  a  spiritual  House." 
■'  I  will  make  thy  seed  as  the  dust  of  the  Earth." 

•*  What  is  the  Church,  and  what  am  I  ? 
A  world,  to  one  poor  sandy  grain, 
A  waste  of  sea  and  sky 
To  one  frail  drop  of  rain. 

••  What  boots  one  feeble  infant  tone 
To  the  full  choir  denied  or  given, 
Where  millions  round  the  Throne 
Are  chanting,  morn  and  even  T 

Nay,  the  kind  Watchers  hearkening  there 
Distinguish  in  the  deep  of  song 
Each  little  wave,  each  ah* 
Upon  the  faltering  tongue. 
p 


210  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Each  half  note  in  the  great  Amen, 
Even  by  the  utter er's  self  unheard, 
They  store  :  O  fail  not  then 
To  bring  thy  lowly  word  : 

Spare  not  to  swell  the  bold  acclaim  : 
So  in  the  future  battle-shout, 
When  at  the  Saviour's  Name 
The  Church  shall  call  thee  out, 

No  doubtful  sound  thy  trump  shall  pour. 
Remember,  when  in  earlier  days 
Thou  toil'dst  upon  the  floor 
Palace  or  tower  to  raise, 

No  mimic  stone  but  found  a  place, 
And  glorious  to  the  builder  shone 
The  pile  :  then  how  should  Grace 
One  living  gem  disown, 

One  pearly  mote,  one  diamond  small, 
One  sparkle  of  th'  unearthly  light  ? — 
Go  where  the  waters  fall 

Sheer  from  the  mountain^  4ieight 


Tlie  Waterfall  211 

Mark  how,  a  thousand  streams  in  one, 
One  in  a  thousand,  on  they  fare, 
Now  flashing  to  the  sun, 
Now  still  as  beast  in  lair. 

Now  round  the  rock,  now  mounting  o'er, 
In  lawless  dance  they  win  their  way. 
Still  seeming  more  and  more 
To  swell  as  we  survey. 

They  win  their  way,  and  find  their  rest 
Together  in  their  ocean  home. 
From  East  and  weary  West, 

From  North  and  South  they  come. 

They  rush  and  roar,  they  whirl  and  leap, 
Not  wilder  drives  the  wintry  storm  : 
Yet  a  strong  law  they  keep, 

Strange  powers  their  course  inform. 

Even  so  the  mighty  sky-born  Stream  : — 
Its  living  waters  from  above 
All  marr'd  and  broken  seem, 
No  union  and  no  love. 


212  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Yet  in  dim  caves  they  haply  blend, 
In  dreams  of  mortals  unespied  : 
One  is  their  awful  End, 
One  their  unfailing  Guide. 

We  that  with  eye  too  daring  seek 

To  scan  their  course,  all  giddy  turn  :— 
Not  so  the  floweret  meek, 
Harebell  or  nodding  fern  : 

They  from  the  rocky  wall's  steep  side 
Lean  without  fear,  and  drink  the  spray  ; 
The  torrent's  foaming  pride 
But  keeps  them  green  and  gay. 

And  Christ  hath  lowly  hearts,  that  rest 
Amid  fallen  Salem's  rush  and  strife  : 
The  pure,  peace-loving  breast 
Even  here  can  find  her  life. 

What  though  in  harsh  and  angry  note 
The  broken  flood  chafe  high  ?  they  muse 
On  mists  that  lightly  float, 
On  heaven-descending  dews, 


The  Waterfall.  213 

On  virgin  snows,  the  feeders  pure 

Of  the  bright  river's  mountain  springs  : — 
And  still  their  prayers  endure, 
And  Hope  sweet  answer  brings. 

If  of  the  Living  Cloud  they  be 
Baptismal  drops,  and  onward  press 
Toward  the  Living  Sea 
By  deeds  of  holiness, 

Then  to  the  Living  Waters  still 

(O  joy  with  trembling  !)  they  pertain, 
Joined  by  some  hidden  rill, 
Low  in  Earth's  darkest  vein. 

Scorn  not  one  drop  :  of  drops  the  shower 
Is  made,  of  showers  the  waterfall  : 
Of  children's  souls  the  Power 
Doomed  to  be  Queen  o'er  all. 


214:  Lessons  of  Nature. 


10. 

THE  STARRY  HEAVENS. 

"  So  shall  thy  seed  be." 

,%  Moke  and  more  Stars  !  and  ever  as  I  gaze 
Brighter  and  brighter  seen  ! 

Whence  come  they,  Father  ?  trace  me  out  their  way- 
Far  in  the  deep  serene." 

My  child,  these  eyes  of  mine  but  faintly  show 
One  step  on  earth  below  : 

And  even  our  wisest  may  but  dream,  they  say, 

Of  what  is  done  on  high,  by  yon  empyreal  ray. 

Thou  know'st  at  deepening  twilight,  how  afar 

On  heath  or  mountain  down 
The  shepherds  kindle  many  an  earthly  star, 

How  from  the  low  damp  town 
We  through  the  mist  the  lines  of  torchlight  trace 

In  dwellings  proud  or  base  : 
But  whom  they  light,  what  deeds  and  words  are  there, 
We  know  but  this  alone — 'tis  well  if  all  be  prayer. 


The  Starry  Heavens.  215 

Whether  on  lonely  shades  the  pale  sad  ray 

From  a  sick  chamber  fall, 
Or  amid  thousands  more  beam  glad  and  gay 

From  mirthful  bower  or  hall, 
If  pure  the  joy,  and  patient  be  the  woe, 

Heaven's  breath  is  there,  we  know  : 
And  surely  of  yon  lamps  on  high  we  deem 
As   of    pure   worlds,    whereon    the   floods    of   mercy 
stream. 

Yea,  in  each  keen  heart -thrilling  glance  of  theirs 

Of  other  stars  we  read, 
Stars  out  of  sight,  souls  for  whom  Love  prepares 

A  portion  and  a  meed 
In  the  supernal  Heavens  for  evermore, 

When  sun  and  moon  are  o'er  ; 
Fixed  in  the  deep  of  grace  and  song,  as  these 
In  the  blue  skies,  and  o'er  the  far-resounding  seas. 

More  and  more  Stars,  here  in  our  outward  Heaven, 

More  and  more  Saints  above  ! 
But  to  the  wistful  gaze  the  sight  is  given, 

The  vision  to  meek  love, — 


2 If)  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Love  taught  of  old  to  treasure  and  embalm 

THiate'er  in  morning  calm 
Or  evening  soft  steals  from  the  gracious  skies. 
The  dry  ground  freshening  with  the  dews  of  Paradise. 

All  humble  holy  gleams  I  bid  thee  seek, 

Dim  lingering  here  below  ; 
So  shall  the  Almighty  give  a  tongue  to  speak, 

A  heart  to  read  and  know 
Of  Saints  at  Home,  robed  and  in  glory  crowned. 

Dews  on  the  lowly  ground 
May  to  the  downward  eye  true  token  yield, 
Yea  even  in  glaring  morn,  of  midnight  Heaven's  pure 
field. 

Stars  to  the  childish  eye  may  gathered  seem 

Into  strange  shapes  and  wild, 
Lion  or  Eagle,  Bear  or  Harp — such  dream 

As  heathen  hearts  beguiled  : — 
Or  as  a  flock  untended,  roaming  wide 

Heaven's  waste  from  side  to  side  : 
But  of  a  central  glory  sages  sing, 
Whence  all  may  be  discerned  in  clear  harmonious  ring. 


The  Starry  Heavens,  217 

Such  are  Saints'  ways — the  forms  so  manifold 

Our  mystic  Mother  wears, 
O  far  unlike  our  dreamings,  young  and  old  ! — 

But  Faith  still  onward  fares, 
Love-guided,  heaven-attracted,  till  she  reach 

The  orb  whence  all  and  each 
By  golden  threads  of  order  and  high  grace 
Are  pendant  evermore,  all  beauteous,  all  in  place. 

More  and  more  Stars  !  behold  yon  hazy  arch, 

Spanning  the  vault  on  high, 
By  planets  traversed  in  majestic  march, 

Seeming  to  earth's  dull  eye 
A  breath  of  misty  light  :  but  take  thou  wing 

Of  Faith,  and  upward  spring  : — 
Into  a  thousand  stars  the  blended  light 
TVill  part  ;    each  star  a  world  with  its  own  day  and 
night. 

Xot  otherwise  of  yonder  Saintly  host 

Uj)on  the  glorious  shore 
Deem  thou.     He  marks  them  all  ;  not  one  is  lost  ; 

By  name  He  counts  them  o'er. 


218  Lessons  of  Nature. 

Full  many  a  soul,  to  man's  dim  praise  unknown, 

May  on  its  glory-throne 
As  brightly  shine,  and  prove  as  strong  in  prayer, 
As  theirs,  whose  separate  beams  shoot  keenest  through 
this  air. 

My  child,  even  now  I  see  thy  tender  breath 

Full  quickly  come  and  go 
At  sound  of  praise.     0  may  the  touch  of  Faith 

Those  chords  so  fine  and  low 
Early  controul,  and  tune  thy  heart  too  high 

For  aught  beneath  the  sky. 
So  may  that  little  spark  of  glory  swell 
To  a  full  orb,  and  soar  with  loftiest  Saints  to  dwell. 


219 


FJBBk    Wessons  of  &v<itt. 

1. 

ISAAC  ON  MORIAH. 

11  Abide  you  here  with  the  ass,  and  I  and  the  lad  will  go  yonder  and  worship.' 

Dread  was  the  mystery  on  Moriah's  hill  : 
Low  on  the  ridge  the  cloud  of  morning  lay  : 

From  each  dark  fold,  along  each  gliding  rill, 

Strange  whispers  from  the  mountain  met  our  way. 

But  we  must  wait  below,  and  upward  gaze," 

While  toward  the  mount  the  father  and  the  son 

Pursue  their  course,  soon  in  that  awful  haze 
To  vanish,  till  the  appointed  deed  be  done. 

So  when  the  Lord  for  some  parental  heart 
Prepares  a  martyr's  crown,  He  calls  on  high 

Father  and  child,  in  His  still  shrine  apart 
To  learn  His  lore  of  healing  agony. 


220  Lessojis  of  Grace. 

We  may  but  stay  without,  and  wondering  pray  ; 

Unknown  to  us  that  deep  of  love  and  woe, 
The  knife  in  Abraham's  hand  upraised  to  slay, 

Meek  Isaac  bound  and  waiting  for  the  blow. 

Weak  as  the  echo  of  some  distant  knell, 

Borne  now  and  then  on  breathing  winds  of  eve, 

Comes  to  our  ear  the  sound  : — "  I  see  full  well 

The  fire  and  wood  ;  but  who  the  Lamb  will  give  ?" 

Fitful  and  faint,  should  Angel  bless  our  dream, 
The  memory  now  would  fleet  and  now  abide. 

'  Such  to  our  hearts  the  stern  sweet  form  may  seem 
Of  him  who  said,  "  The  Almighty  will  provide." 

Not  even  to  dwellers  on  the  mystic  height,  ' 
Not  to  the  Saints,  is  full  enlightening  given  : 

The  Cross,  they  hold  by,  towers  beyond  their  sight, 
On  the  hill  peak  opens  a  deeper  heaven. 

Yea,  though  in  one  were  gathered  all  the  woes 
That  mourners  e'er  on  household  altars  laid, 

Widows'  and  orphans'  tears,  untimely  throes, 
Fears,  that  the  memory  of  loved  souls  o'ershade, 


Isaac  on  Moriah.  2'2\ 

What  were  it  all,  to  match  one  drop  of  Thine, 
One  bitter  drop,  poured  on  Thy  mountain  here 

In  Thine  own  hour  ?  O  joy  !  that  Blood  is  mine  : — 
For  us  it  flowed,  even  as  for  Saint  and  seer. 

Well  may  we  mourn  our  dull  cold  heart,  and  eye 
That  up  the  mount  of  glorious  sacrifice 

Sees  such  a  little  way  :  yet  kneel  we  nigh  : 
Turn  not  away  :  let  prayer  in  gloom  arise. 

He  who  beside  His  own  the  Cross  allows 
Of  penitential  grief  ; — who  to  each  Saint 

Calls  from  His  height  of  woe  ; — His  bleeding  brows 
Will  meekly  droop  to  hear  our  breathing  faint. 


222  Lessons  of  Grace. 


SONG  OF  THE  MANNA-GATHERERS. 

11  This  is  the  bread  which  the  Lord  hath  given  you  to  eat.' 

Comrades,  haste  !  the  tent's  tall  shading 

Lies  along  the  level  sand 
Far  and  faint  :  the  stars  are  fading 

O'er  the  gleaming  western  strand. 
Airs  of  morning 

Freshen  the  bleak  burning  land. 

Haste,  or  ere  the  third  hour  glowing 

With  its  eager  thirst  prevail 
O'er  the  moist  pearls,  now  bestrowing 

Thymy  slope  and  rushy  vale, — 
Dews  celestial, 

Left  when  earthly  dews  exhale. 


Song  of  the  Manna-Gatherers.  223 

Ere  the  bright  good  hour  be  wasted, 

Glean,  not  ravening,  nor  in  sloth  : 
To  your  tent  bring  all  untasted  ; — 

To  thy  Father,  nothing  loth, 
Bring  thy  treasure  : 

Trust  thy  God,  and  keep  thy  troth. 

Trust  Him  :  care  not  for  the  morrow  : 

Should  thine  omer  overflow, 
And  some  poorer  seek  to  borrow, 

Be  thy  gift  nor  scant  nor  slow. 
Wouldst  thou  store  it  ? 

Ope  thine  hand,  and  let  it  go. 


Trust  His  daily  work  of  wonder, 
Wrought  in  all  His  people's  sight  : 

Think  on  yon  high  place  of  thunder, 
Think  upon  the  unearthly  light 

Brought  from  Sinai, 
When  the  prophet's  face  grew  bright. 


224  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Think,  the  Glory  yet  is  nigh  thee, 
Power  unfelt  arrests  thine  arm, 

Love  aye  watching,  to  deny  thee 
Stores  abounding  to  thy  harm. 

Rich  and  needy, 
All  are  levelled  by  Love's  charm. 


Sing  we  thus  our  songs  of  labour 
At  our  harvest  in  the  wild, 

For  our  God  and  for  our  neighbour, 
Till  six  times  the  morn  have  smiled, 

And  our  vessels 
Are  with  two -fold  treasure  piled. 


For  that  one,  that  heavenly  morrow, 
We  may  care  and  toil  to-day  : 

Other  thrift  is  loss  and  sorrow, 
Savings  are  but  thrown  away. 

Hoarded  manna  ! — 
Moths  and  worms  shall  on  it  prey. 


Song  of  the  Manna-Gatherers.  225 

While  the  faithless  and  unstable 

Mars  with  work  the  season  blest, 
We  around  Thy  heaven-sent  table 

Praise  Thee,  Lord,  with  all  our  best. 
Signs  prophetic 

Fill  our  week,  both  toil  and  rest. 


Comrades,  what  our  sires  have  told  us — 
Watch  and  wait,  for  it  will  come  : 

Smiling  vales  shall  soon  enfold  us 
In  a  new  and  vernal  Home  : 

Earth  will  feed  us 
From  her  own  benignant  womb. 


We  beside  the  wondrous  river 
In  the  appointed  hour  shall  stand. 

Following,  as  from  Egypt  ever. 

Thy  bright  Cloud  and  outstretched  Hand 

In  thy  shadow 
We  shall  rest,  on  Abraham's  land. 


226  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Not  by  manna  showers  at  morning 
Shall  our  board  be  then  supplied, 

But  a  strange  pale  gold,  adorning 
Many  a  tufted  mountain's  side, 

Yearly  feed  us, 
Year  by  year  our  murmurings  chide. 


There,  no  prophet's  touch  awaiting, 
From  each  cool  deep  cavern  start 

Rills,  that  since  their  first  creating 
Ne'er  have  ceased  to  sing  their  part. 

Oft  we  hear  them 
In  our  dreams,  with  thirsty  heart. 


Oh,  when  travel-toils  are  over, 
When  above  our  tranquil  nest 

All  our  guardian  Angels  hover, 
Will  our  hearts  be  quite  at  rest  ? 

Nay,  fair  Canaan 
Is  not  heavenly  Mercy's  best. 


Song  of  the  Manna-Gatherers.  227 

Know  ye  not,  our  glorious  Leader 

Salem  may  but  see,  and  die  ? 
Israel's  guide  and  nurse  and  feeder 

Israel's  hope  from  far  must  eye, 
Then  departing 

Find  a  worthier  throne  on  high. 


Dimly  shall  fond  Fancy  trace  him, 

Dim  though  sweet  her  dreams  shall  prove, 

Wondering  what  high  Powers  embrace  him, 
Where  in  light  he  walks  above, 

Where  in  silence 
Sleeping,  hallows  heath  or  grove. 

Deeps  of  blessing  are  before  us  : 

Only,  while  the  desert  sky 
And  the  sheltering  cloud  hang  o'er  us, 

Morn  by  morn,  obediently, 
Glean  we  Manna, 

And  the  song  of  Moses  try. 


228  Lessons  of  Grace, 


3. 


THE  GIBEONITES. 

"  I  will  follow  upon  mine  enemies,  and  overtake  them,  neither  will  I 
turn  again  till  I  have  destroyed  them." 

"  Behold  me,  Lord,  a  worthless  Gibeonite, 
Unmeet  to  bear  one  burthen  in  thy  sight, 
To  hew  thy  servants'  wood,  or  water  draw, 
Yet  trusted  with  thine  own  eternal  Law. 
The  deadlier  sure  the  guilt,  the  doom  more  drear, 
Should  Canaan  powers  prevail — and  they  are  near. 
The  world  of  Sense,  five  mighty  Monarchs,  hard 
Upon  me  lies,  and  I  thy  robe  have  marr'd. 
Chariot  and  horse  they  come,  a  fearful  fray  : — 
I  cannot  stand  alone  this  evil  day." —  . 
"  Go,  shamed  and  scared,  seek  Joshua  in  thy  need, 
Him  and  all  Israel :  they  for  thee  shall  plead. 
Their  voice  hath  power  to  stay  the  sun,  and  win 
The  frail  fallen  mourner  time  to  hate  his  sin. 


The  Gibeonites. 


229 


But  when  their  prayer  hath  laid  the  Tempter  low, 
Be  sure  thou  crush  him  :  deal  out  blow  on  blow  ; 
Set  thy  stern  foot  upon  his  neck,  and  hide 
His  corse,  unpitying,  in  the  dark  cave's  side  ; 
Nor  venture  but  in  thought  to  move  the  stones 
That  guard  his  place,  lest  even  in  those  dry  bones 
Some  quickening  fiend  the  bold  bad  life  renew, 
And  thou  in  sevenfold  guilt  thy  heart's  backsliding 
rue." 


230  Lessons  of  Grace. 


DAVID'S  CHILDHOOD. 

"  Out  of  the  mouth  of  very  babes  and  sucklings  thou  hast  ordained 
strength,  that  thou  mightest  still  the  enemy  and  the  avenger.*' 

Christian  child,  whoe'er  thou  be, 
Purer  oil  than  David  knew, 
Mingling  with  baptismal  dew, 

Heaven  hath  dropped  on  thee. 

Strength  is  given  thee,  watch  to  keep 
O'er  the  lamb  He  bought  so  dear, 
Thine  own  soul  to  watch  in  fear  : — 
Sleep  no  faithless  sleep. 

When  the  Lion  and  the  Bear, 

Childish  Pride  and  childish  Wrath, 
Lay  athwart  thy  morning  path, 
Thou  didst  win  by  prayer. 


David's  Childhood.  231 

Now  a  mightier  foe  is  nigh  ; 
Holy  hands  for  a  new  strife 
Thee  have  stored  with  ampler  life  : 
Set  thine  heart  on  high. 

Not  with  sword  and  shield  and  lance, 
But  with  charm-words  from  our  Book. 
Gems  from  our  baptismal  Brook, 
Meet  his  stern  advance. 

He  through  every  gate  of  sense, 
Eye  and  ear,  taste,  touch,  and  smell, 
Fain  would  hurl  the  shafts  of  hell : 
Seek  thou  strong  defence. 

Guard  in  time  those  portals  five 

AVith  the  smooth  stones  from  the  Fount, 
With  the  Law  from  God's  own  Mount : 
So  thy  war  shall  thrive. 

Keep  thy  staff,  the  Cross,  in  hand  : 
Thou  shalt  see  the  giant  foe 
By  the  word  of  Faith  laid  low, 
O'er  him  conquering  stand. 


232  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Mark  and  use  the  trial-hour  : 

When  his  whispers  nearest  sound, 
Be  thou  then  most  faithful  found, 
Then  tread  down  his  power. 

Stripling  though  thou  be,  and  frail, 
Thy  right  arm  shall  wield  his  sword, 
Wield,  and  take  his  head  abhorred, — 
Christ  in  thee  prevail. 


Lessons  of  Grace.  233 


ELIJAH  AT  SAREPTA. 

■•  Make  me  thereof  a  little  cake  first,  and  bring  it  unto  me,  and  after 
make  for  thee  and  for  thy  son." 

Lo,  cast  at  random  on  the  wild  sea  sand 

A  child  low  wailing  lies  : 
Around,  Avith  eye  forlorn  and  feeble  hand, 

Scarce  heeding  its  faint  cries, 
The  widowed  mother  in  the  wilderness 
Gathers  dry  boughs,  their  last  sad  meal  to  bless. 

But  who  is  this  that  comes  with  mantle  rude 

And  vigil-wasted  air  ? 
Who  to  the  famished  cries,  "  Come  give  me  food, 

I  with  thy  child  would  share  ?" 
She  bounteous  gives  :  but  hard  he  seems  of  heart, 
Who  of  such  scanty  store  would  crave  a  part. 


234  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Haply  the  child  his  little  hand  holds  forth, 

That  all  his  own  may  be. — 
Nay,  simple  one,  thy  mother's  faith  is  worth 

Healing  and  life  to  thee. 
That  handful  given,  for  years  ensures  thee  bread  ; 
That  drop  of  oil  shall  raise  thee  from  the  dead. 

For  in  yon  haggard  form  He  begs  unseen, 

To  Whom  for  life  we  kneel : 
One  little  cake  He  asks  with  lowly  mien, 

Who  blesses  every  meal. 
Lavish  for  Him,  ye  poor,  your  children's  store, 
So  shall  your  cruse  for  many  a  day  run  o'er. 

And  thou,  dear  child,  though  hungering, ,  give  glad 
way 

To  Jesus  in  His  need  : 
So  thy  blest  mother  at  the  awful  day 

Thy  name  in  Heaven  may  read  ; 
So  by  His  touch  for  ever  mayst  thou  live, 
Who  asks  our  alms,  and  lends  a  heart  to  give. 


r^ 


Lessoris  of  Grace.  235 


NAAMAN'S  SERVANT. 

M  Who  hath  despised  the  day  of  small  things  ?" 

"  Who  for  the  like  of  me  will  care  ?" 
So  whispers  many  a  mournful  heart. 

When  in  the  weary  languid  air 
For  grief  or  scorn  we  pine  apart. 

So  haply  mused  yon  little  maid 

From  Israel's  breezy  mountains  borne, 

No  more  to  rest  in  Sabbath  shade 
Watching  the  free  and  wavy  corn. 

A  captive  now,  and  sold  and  bought, 
In  the  proud  Syrian's  hall  she  waits, 

Forgotten — such  her  moody  thought — 
Even  as  the  worm  beneath  the  gates. 


236  Lessons  of  Grace. 

But  One  who  ne'er  forgets  is  here  : 
He  hath  a  word  for  thee  to  speak  : 

Oh  serve  Him  yet  in  duteous  fear, 
And  to  thy  G-entile  lord  be  meek. 

So  shall  the  healing  Name  be  known 
By  thee  on  many  a  heathen  shore, 

And  Naaman  on  his  chariot  throne 
Wait  humbly  by  Elisha's  door  ; 

By  thee  desponding  lepers  know 
The  sacred  waters'  sevenfold  might. 

Then  wherefore  sink  in  listless  woe  ? 

Christ's  poor  and  needy,  claim  your  right  ! 

Your  heavenly  right,  to  do  and  bear 
All  for  His  sake  ;  nor  yield  one  sigh 

To  pining  Doubt  ;  nor  ask,  "  What  care 
In  the  wide  world  for  such  as  I  ?"  " 


Lessons  of  Grace.  237 


HEZEKIAH'S  DISPLAY. 

"  There  is  nothing  among  ray  treasures  that  I  have  not  showed  them." 

When  Heaven  in  mercy  gives  thy  prayers  return, 
And  Angels  bring  thee  treasures  from  on  high, 

Shut  fast  the  door,  nor  let  the  world  discern, 
And  offer  thee  fond  praise  when  God  is  nigh. 

In  friendly  guise,  perchance  with  friendly  heart, 
From  Babel,  see,  they  haste  with  words  of  love  : 

But  if  thou  lightly  all  thy  wealth  impart, 
Their  race  will  come  again,  and  all  remove. 

Ill  thoughts,  the  children  of  that  King  of  Pride, 
O'er  richest  halls  will  swarm,  and  holiest  bowers, 

Profaning  first,  then  spoiling  far  and  wide  : — 

Voluptuous  Sloth  make  free  with  Sharon's  flowers. 


238  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Close  thou  the  garden-gate,  and  keep  the  key, 
There  chiefly,  where  the  tender  seedlings  fold 

Their  dainty  leaves — a  treasure  even  to  thee 
Unknown,  till  airs  celestial  make  them  bold. 

When  sun  and  shower  give  token,  freely  then 
The  fragrance  will  steal  out,  the  flower  unclose  : 

But  busy  hands,  and  an  admiring  ken, 

Have  blighted  ere  its  hour  full  many  a  rose,. 

Then  rest  thee,  bright  one,  in  thy  tranquil  nook, 
Fond  eyes  to  cherish  thee,  true  arms  to  keep, 

Nor  wistful  for  the  world's  gay  sunshine  look  ; — 
In  its  own  time  the  light  will  o'er  thee  sweep, 

Think  of  the  babes  of  Judah's  royal  line  : — 

Display  but  touched  them  with  her  parching  glare 

Once,  and  for  ages  four  they  bare  the  sign, 
The  fifth  beheld  them  chained  in  Babel's  lair. 


Lessons  of  Grace.  239 


8. 


ST.  JOSEPH. 


'  He  called  His  Name  Jesus." 


The  glorious  Sun  at  morn 

Draws  round  him  a  soft  screen, 
Clear  haze,  of  light  and  moisture  born  ; 
So  are  the  bright  forms  seen, 

His  royal  cradle  round 
Standing  in  meet  array, 
Clouds  of  all  hues,  not  wholly  drowned 
In  dazzling  floods  of  day. 

Thou  temperest,  Lord,  the  rays 
Which  in  thy  manger  burn, 
Till  Faith  in  that  deep  glory-blaze 
Dim  shapes  of  earth  discern  : 


240  Lessons  of  Grace. 

The  spotless  Mother,  first 

Of  creatures  :  His  mild  eye, — 
0  favoured  ! — who  her  travail  nursed, 
And  Thy  dread  infancy. 

Him  o'er  Thee  lowly  bent, 
Or  meekly  waiting  nigh, 
Or  on  some  homely  task  intent, 
Yet  conscious  who  is  by, 

Or  on  the  journey  wild, 
With  duteous  staff  in  hand, 
Guiding  the  Mother  and  the  Child 
Across  the  sea  of  sand, 

Thy  Church  in  memory  views  ; 
Nor  can  her  babes  aright 
On  Bethlehem  or  on  Nazareth  muse. 
But  he  is  still  in  sight. 

0  balm  to  lonely  hearts, 
Who  childless  or  bereft, 
Yet  round  the  cradle  find  their  parts, 
Their  place  and  portion  left 


St.  Joseph.  241 


In  bowers  of  home  delight  : — 
Yet  may  they  draw  full  near, 
And  in  the  treasure  claim  their  right, 
Their  share  of  smile  and  tear, 

Of  thrilling  joys  and  cares. —  - 
"  Father  in  God  :" — who  knows 
How  near  it  brings  us,  unawares, 
To  true  parental  throes  ? 

Mightier  perchance  may  prove 
The  lore  the  Font  imparts 
To  strangers,  than  all  yearning  love 
In  heathen  Mothers'  hearts. 

Whom  Jesus  Father  owned,* 
Though  childless  to  our  eyes, 
Doubt  not,  his  soul  was  higher  toned 
To  parents'  sympathies, 

Than  sires  on  earth  may  know  : — 
And  when  His  Octave  came, 
He  o'er  the  Lord  did  first  below 
Speak  the  Most  Holy  Name. 

*  St.  Luke  ii.  48,  49. 
R 


242 


Lessons  of  Grace. 


Wherefore  in  chorus  kind 
Of  household  jubilee, 
Name  thou  his  name  with  willing  mind, 
Who  spake  Christ's  Name  o'er  thee. 

And  when  at  holy  tide, 

Along  the  Church-way  borne 
Thou  seest  how  babes  in  triumph  ride 
On  arms  by  rude  toil  worn  ; — 

Or  mark'st,  how  well  agree, 
Both  leading  and  both  led, 
Grey  Poverty  and  childish  Glee  ; — 
Leave  not  His  lore  unread  : 


Then  of  Saint  Joseph  think, 
And  of  his  dread  Nurse-Child. 
Let  eyes,  that  day,  from  evit^hrink, 
And  hearts  be  undefined. 


Lessons  of  Grace. 
9. 

THE  BOY  WITH  THE  FIVE  LOAVES. 

u  If  thou  hast  little,  do  thy  diligence  gladly  to  give  of  that  little." 

What  time  the  Saviour  spread  His  feast 
For  thousands  on  the  mountain's  side, 
One  of  the  last  and  least 

The  abundant  store  supplied. 

Haply,  the  wonders  to  behold, 
A  boy  'mid  other  boys  he  came, 
A  lamb  of  Jesus'  fold, 

Though  now  unknown  by  name. 

Or  for  his  sweet  obedient  ways 

The  Apostles  brought  him  near,  to  share 
Their  Lord's  laborious  days, 
His  frugal  basket  bear. 

Or  might  it  be  his  duteous  heart 
That  led  him  sacrifice  to  bring 
For  his  own  simple  part, 

To  the  world's  hidden  King  ? 


244  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Well  may  I  guess  how  glow'd  his  cheek, 
How  he  look'd  down,  half  pride,  half  fear 
Far  off  he  saw  one  speak 
Of  him  in  Jesus'  ear. 

"  There  is  a  lad — five  loaves  hath  he, 
And  fishes  twain  : — but  what  are  they, 
Where  hungry  thousands  be  ?" — 
Nay,  Christ  will  find  a  way. 

In  order,  on  the  fresh  green  hill, 

The  mighty  Shepherd  ranks  His  Sheep 
By  tens  and  fifties,  still 

As  clouds  when  breezes  sleep. 

Oh  who  can  tell  the  trembling  joy, 
Who  paint  the  grave  endearing  look, 
When  from  that  favoured  boy 

The  wondrous  pledge  He  took  ? — 

Keep  thou,  dear  child,  thine  early  word ; 
Bring  Him  thy  best :  who  knows  but  He 
For  His  eternal  board 

May  take  some  gift  of  thee  ? 


The  Boy  with  the  Fice  Loaves.  245 

Thou  prayest  without  the  veil  as  yet ; 
But  kneel  in  faith  :  an  arm  benign 
Such  prayer  will  duly  set 
Within  the  holiest  shrine. 

And  Prayer  has  might  to  spread  and  grow. 
Thy  childish  darts,  right -aim'd  on  high, 
May  catch  Heaven's  fire,  and  glow 
Far  in  the  eternal  sky  : 

Even  as  He  made  that  stripling's  store 
Type  of  the  Feast  by  Him  decreed, 
Where  Angels  might  adore, 
And  souls  for  ever  feed. 


246  Lessons  of  Grace. 

10. 

THE  MOURNERS  FOLLOWING  THE  CROSS. 

"  Weep  not  for  me,  but  for  yourselves  and  for  your  children." 

There  is  no  grief  that  ever  wasted  man, 
But  finds  its  hour  here  in  Thine  awful  week, 
And  since  all  Mother's  love  from  Thee  began, 
Sure  none,  like  Thee,  of  Mother's  woe  can  speak. 
Thine  ear  prophetic,  Lord,  while  angels  wreak 
The  vengeance  on  Thine  heritage  defil'd, 
.  While  temples  crash,  and  towers  in  ashes  reek, 
And  with  each  gust  some  kingdom  strews  the  wild, 
Loses  no  lowly  moan,  no  sigh  of  sobbing  child. 

Even  so  might  seamen's  wives  at  midnight  drear 
Lie  listening  to  the  blast,  and  tell  aright 
The  tale  of  all  the  waves,  that  far  and  near 
Break  on  the  reef,  yet  miss  no  wailing  slight 
Of  nestling  babe,  for  wonder  or  delight 
Uttering  faint  cries  in  sleep. — 0  restless  care  ! 
Oh  all  foreseeing  pity  ! — be  our  flight 
In  winter,  soothing  spells  will  He  prepare, 
And  for  His  lambs  allay  the  bleak  heart-killing  air. 


The  Mourners  following  the  Cross.         247 

Or  if  the  holy  Day  the  few  brief  hours 
Of  flight  abridge,  for  nursing-mother  frail. 
For  tender  babe,  Thou  send'st  Thine  unseen  power- 
To  help  or  hide  : — hide  in  the  lowly  vale, 
Help  o'er  the  weary  mountain. — Xe'er  may  fail 
The  prayer  of  helpless  Faith  ; — but  she  must  pray. 
Her  forceful  knocking  must  Heaven's  door  assail  : 
For  so  of  old  He  taught  :  "  Pray  that  your  way 
Be  not  in  winter  wild,  nor  on  the  Sabbath  Day." 

The  season  He  bids  choose,  who  in  strong  hand 
Winter  and  summer  holds,  and  day  and  night. 
Binding  His  sovereign  will  in  Love's  soft  band  ; — 
As  parents  teach  their  little  ones  to  write 
With  gently -guiding  finger,  and  delight 
The  wish  and  prayer  to  mould,  then  grant  the  boon  : — 
Such  is  Thy  silent  grace,  framing  aright 
Our  lowly  orisons  in  time  and  tune 
To  Litanies  on  high,  controlling  sun  and  moon. 

And  as  the  heart  maternal  evermore 
Must  rise  in  prayer,  so  the  maternal  feet 
Must  feel  their  dim  way  on  the  lonely  shore, 
Ere  o'er  the  path  the  unpitying  surges  beat. 


248  Lessons  of  Grace. 

At  early  dawn,  the  fresh  spring  dews  to  greet, 
I  bid  thee  haste,  else  vainly  wilt  thou  crave 
An  hour  in  winter.     Fast  the  week-days  fleet, 
Slow  speeds  the  work  :  the  lingerers  who  shall  save  ? 
Thy  task  ere  Sunday  end,  thy  life  before  the  grave. 

Who  may  the  horror  but  in  dream  abide, 
Breathless  to  knock,  and  by  the  portal  wait 
Where  Saints  have -past  behind  their  glorious  Guide, 
Then  feel,  not  hear,  the  sad  drear  word,  "  Too  late  ?" 
Woe,  in  that  hour,  to  souls  that  seek  the  gate 
Alone  !  but  deeper  anguish,  direr  gloom, 
If  to  thy  bosom  clinging,  child  or  mate, 
Pupil  or  friend,  the  heaven-prepared  room, 
Tardy  through  thee,  should  miss,  and  share  the  hopeless 
doom  ! 


Lessons  of  Grace.  249 


11. 
ST.  ANDREW  AND  HIS  CROSS. 

"  Where  I  am,  there  shall  also  my  servant  be." 

0  Holy  Cross,  on  thee  to  hang 

At  Jesus'  side,  and  feel  thee  sweet, 
And  taste  aright  each  healing  pang, 
What  Saint,  what  Virgin  Martyr  e'er  was  meet  ? 

Two  only  of  His  own  found  grace 
The  very  death  He  died  to  die. 
Joyful  they  rush'd  to  thine  embrace, 
While  Angel  choirs,  half  envying,  waited  by. 

Joyful  they  speed  ; — but  how  is  this  ? 

Why  doubt  they  yet,  in  Jesus'  power 
To  grasp  their  crown  of  hard  won  bliss  ? 
Well  have  ye  fought  ;  why  faint  in  Victory's  hour  ? 


250  Lessons  of  Grace. 

Two  brothers'  hearts  were  they,  the  first 

Who  shone  as  stars  in  Jesus'  Hand, 
For  thee  in  Prayer  and  Fasting  nurs'd, 
And  bearing  thee,  dread  Cross  !  from  land  to  land. 

And  now  in  wondrous  sympathy, 

When  thou  art  nearer  fain  to  draw, 
These  who  had  yearn'd  so  long  for  thee 
Shrink  from  thy  touch,  and  hide  their  eyes  for  awe. 

He  who  denied — he  dares  not  scale 
With  forward  step  thy  holy  stair. 
Best  for  his  giddy  heart  and  frail 
In  humblest  penance  to  hang  downward  there. 

And  he,  that  saintly  Elder  meek, 

Wont  of  old  time  to  find  and  bring 
Brother  or  friend  with  Christ  to  speak, 
As  worthier  to  behold  the  heart -searching  King  : — 

Ah  little  brook'd  his  lowly  heart, 

Such  glorious  crown  should  him  reward. 
He  sought  the  way  with  duteous  art 
To  change  his  Cross,  yet  suffer  with  his  Lord. 


St.  Andrew  and  his  Cross.  251 

He  sought  and  found  :  and  now  where'er 

Saint  Andrew's  holy  Cross  we  see, 
In  royal  banner  blazon'd  fair, 
Or  in  dread  Cipher,  Holiest  Name,  of  thee, 

A  martyr'd  form  we  may  discern, 

There  bound,  there  preaching  :  Image  meet 
Of  One  uplifted  high,  to  turn 
And  draw  to  Him  all  hearts  in  bondage  sweet. 

And  as  we  gaze  may  He  impart 

The  grace  to  bear  what  He  shall  send, 
Yet  stay  the  rash  self-pleasing  heart, 
Too  forward  with  His  Cross  our  penal  woe  to  blend. 


252 


W ♦    ^oil?  places  an*  Clings* 


PREPARING  FOR  SUNDAY  SERVICES. 

"  As  they  went  to  tell  His  Disciples,  Jesus  met  them,  saying,  '  All  hail.'  " 

Behold,  athwart  our  woodland  nest, 

And  down  our  misty  vale, 
From  his  own  bright  and  quiet  rest 
The   Sunday  sun  looks  out,  and  seems  to  say,   "All 
haiL" 


True  token  of  that  brighter  Day, 
Which  hailed,  this  matin  hour, 
The  holy  women  on  their  way. 
They  sought  His  Church  in  love,  He  met  them  in  His 
power. 


Preparing  for  Sunday  Services.  253 

And  dare  we  the  transporting  word 

To  our  own  hearts  apply  ? 
Trembling  we  dare  ;  for  He  had  heard 
Our  lowly  breathed  vows,  ere  flamed  yon  morning  sky. 

We  have  been  by  His  Cross  and  grave  ; 

His  Angel  bade  us  speed 
Where  they  resort,  whom  He  will  save, 
And  hear  and  say  as  one,  "  The  Lord  is  risen  indeed." 

Then  speed  we  on  our  willing  way, 

And  He  our  way  will  bless. 
In  fear  and  love  thy  heart  array  : 
Straight  be  thy  churchway  path,  unsoiled  thy  Sabbath 
dress. 


254  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


WALK  TO  CHURCH. 

"  The  path  of  the  Just  is  as  the  shining  light,  which  shineth  more  and 
more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

Now  the  holy  hour  is  nigh, 

Seek  we  out  the  holy  ground  ; 
Overhead  the  breezy  sky, 

Rustling  woodlands  all  around  : 
Fragrant  steams  from  oak-leaves  sere. 

Peat  and  moss  and  whortles  green, 
Dews  that  yet  are  glistening  clear 

'Through  their  brown  or  briary  screen. 

Hie  we  through  the  autumnal  wood, 

Pausing  where  the  echoes  dwell. 
Boys,  or  men  of  boyish  mood, 

Trying  how  afar  they  swell. 
Haply  down  some  opening  glade 

Now  the  old  grey  tower  we  see, 
Underneath  whose  solemn  shade 

Jesus  risen  hath  sworn  to  be. 


Walk  to  Church.  255 

He  hath  sworn,  for  there  will  meet 

Two  or  three  in  His  great  name, 
Waiting  till  their  incense  sweet 

Feel  His  heaven-descended  flame. 
Day  by  day  that  old  grey  tower 

Tells  its  tale,  and  week  by  week 
In  their  tranquil  hoary  bower 

To  the  unlearned  its  shadows  speak. 


256  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


THE  LICH-GATE. 

"  Keep  thy  foot  when  thou  goest  to  the  House  of  God." 

This  is  the  portal  of  the  dead. — 

Nay,  shrink  not  so,  my  fair-eyed  boy, 
But  on  the  threshold  grating  tread 
With  wary  softness  :  tame  the  joy, 
The  wildfire  keen,  that  all  the  way 
Even  from  our  porch  at  home  hath  danced  with  thee 
so  gay. 

This  is  the  holy  resting-place, 

Where  coffins  and  where  mourners  wait. 
Till  the  stoled  priest  hath  time  to  pace 
His  path  toward  this  eastern  gate, 
Like  one  who  bears  a  hidden  seal 
Of  pardon  from  a  king,  where  rebels  trembling  kneel. 


The  Lich-gate.  257 

Brief  is  the  pause,  but  thoughts  and  dreams 
By  thousands  on  that  moment  crowd, 

Of  clouds  departing,  opening  gleams, 
A  waning  lamp,  a  brightening  shroud  : 
Such  visions  fill  the  longing  eyes 
As  haply  haunt  the  space  'twixt  earth  and  Paradise. 


Such  visions  in  the  churchyard  air 
Are  gleaming,  fluttering  all  around. 

0  scare  them  not  away  :  beware 
Of  bolder  cry  and  ruder  bound. 
Thick  as  the  bees  that  love  to  play 
Under  the  lime-tree  leaves  the  livelong  summer  day. 

And  tunable  as  their  soft  song, 

And  fragrant  as  the  honey'd  flowers 

They  haunt  and  cherish,  is  the  throng 

Of  thoughts  in  these  our  hallowed  bowers. 
On  every  gale  that  stirs  the  yew 
They  float,  and  twinkle  in  each  drop  of  morning  dew. 


258  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

Oh  then  revere  each  old  grey  stone, 

And  gently  tread  the  mounds  between. 
So  when  thy  blithesome  days  are  done, 
And  thou,  as  I,  shalt  wearied  lean 
Upon  the  wicket  low,  and  tell 
Thy  tale   of    playmates    called    before   thee   here   to 
dwell  ; — 

When  thou  shalt  mark,  how  swarms  the  street 

With  boys  at  play,  the  turf  with  graves, 
All  in  one  little  hour  to  meet 

And  hear  the  doom  that  slays  or  saves  ; — 
Fresh  may  the  memory  prove  and  dear, 
How  thou  hast  come  and  gone,  since  first  we  brought 
thee  here. 

Then  shall  the  wings,  so  strong  in  need, 

Which  met  thee  at  the  Font  that  hour, 
And  homeward  joy'd  with  thee  to  speed, 
O'er  shade  thee  still  in  love  and  power, 
And  with  the  churchyard  shadows  blend, 
Which  thy  last  entering   here    shall   in  sweet  peace 
attend. 


Holy  Places  and  Things.  259  - 

4 
OBEISANCE  AT  ENTERING  CHURCH. 

'  They  shall  see  His  Face,  and  His  Name  shall  be  in  their  foreheads." 

Come  hear  with  duteous  mind 

Thy  Mother's  whisper'd  word. 
u  Wouldst  thou  upon  His  threshold  find 

Thy  dread  and  loving  Lord  ? 
Renew  in  silence  on  thy  brow 
The  pledge  of  thy  first  saving  vow." 

Safe. in  thy  forehead  keep 

The  mark  by  Jesus  set. 
Before  thee  is  a  mighty  deep, 

A  baptism  waits  thee  yet  : 
As  Lazarus  rising,  such  thou  art, 
Thy  soul  and  flesh  again  to  part. 

But  when  thy  Lord  and  thou, — 
Thou  from  the  grave,  and  He 
From  Heaven, — shall  meet,  upon  thy  brow 

A  glorious  Cross  shall  be, 
A  Light  that  needs  no  watching  o'er, 
Even  as  He  rose,  and  died  no  more. 


260  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


THE  EMPTY  CHURCH. 

"  The  blind  and  the  lame  came  to  Him  in  the  temple." 

Why  should  we  grudge  the  hour  and  house  of  prayer 
To  Christ's  own  blind  and  lame, 
Who  come  to  meet  .Him  there  ? 
Better,  be  sure,  His  altar-flame 
Should  glow  in  one  dim  wavering  spark, 
Than  quite  die  down,  and  leave  His  temple  drear  and 
dark. 

"  But  in  our  Psalm  their  choral  answers  fail." — 
Nay,  but  the  heart  may  speak, 
And  to  the  holy  tale 
Respond  aright  in  silence  meek. 
And  well  we  know,  bright  angel  throngs 
Are  by,  to  swell  those  whisperings  into  warbled  songs, 


The  Empty  Church.  261 

What  if  the  world  our  two  or  three  despise  ? 
They  in  His  name  are  here, 
To  Whom  in  suppliant  guise 
Of  old  the  blind  and  lame  drew  near. 
Beside  His  royal  courts  they  wait 
And  ask  His  healing  Hand  :   we  dare  not  close  the 
gate. 


262  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


CHURCH  DECORATIONS. 

"  I  will  not  offer  burnt-offerings  without  cost." 

"  Why  deck  the  high  cathedral  roof 

With  foliage  rich  and  rare, 
With  crowns  and  flowerets  far  aloof, 

To  none  but  Angels  fair  ? 

"  Why  for  the  lofty  Altar  hide 
Thy  gems  and  gold  in  store  ? 

Why  spread  the  burnished  pall  so  wide 
Upon  the  chancel  floor  ?" 

Nay,  rather  ask,  why  duteous  boy 

And  mother-loving  maid 
Scarce  in  their  filial  gifts  find  joy, 

If  nought  of  theirs  be  paid  : 


Church  Decorations.  263 

Why  hearts,  that  true  love-tokens  need 

For  brother  or  for  friend, 
Count  not  the  cost  with  careful  heed, 

But  haste  their  all  to  spend  : 

Ask  why  of  old  the  favoured  king 

Enquired  the  Temple's  price, 
Not  bearing  to  his  Lord  to  bring 

An  unbought  sacrifice. 

Yea,  lowly  fall,  and  of  thy  Lord 

In  silence  ask  and  dread, 
Why  praised  He  Mary's  ointment,  poured 

Upon  His  Sacred  Head. 


264  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

7. 

CHURCH  WINDOWS. 

"  The  Lord  my  God  shall  come,  and  all  the  Saints  with  Thee  :  and  it 
shall  come  to  pass  in  that  day,  that  the  light  shall  not  be  clear,  nor  dark." 

Oft  have  I  heard  our  elders  say, 

How  sad  the  autumnal  hour, 
How  rude  the  touch  of  stern  decay, 
How  fast  the  bright  hues  melt  away 

In  mountain,  sky,  and  bower  ! 

Yet  is  it  dear  delight  to  me 

The  rustling  leaves  to  tread, 
To  heap  and  toss  them  wild  and  free, 
Their  fragrance  breathe,  and  o'er  them  see 

Soft  evening  lustre  shed. 

And  some  will  say,  'tis  drear  and  cold 

In  holy  Church  to  kneel 
With  one  or  two,  Christ's  little  fold, 
With  blind  and  lame,  with  poor  and  old, 

There  met  for  Him  to  heal. 


Church  Windows,  265 

Nay,  look  again  :  the  Saints  are  there  ; 

Christ's  ever-glowing  Light 
Through  heavenly  features  grave  and  fair 
Is  gleaming  ;  all  the  lonely  air 

Is  thronged  with  shadows  bright. 

The  Saints  are  there  : — the  Living  Dead, 

The  Mourners  glad  and  strong  ; 
The  sacred  floor  their  quiet  bed, 
Their  beams  from  every  window  shed, 

Their  voice  in  every  song. 

And  haply  where  I  kneel,  some  day, 

From  yonder  gorgeous  pane 
The  glory  of  some  Saint  will  play  : — 
Not  lightly  may  it  pass  away, 

But  in  my  heart  remain. 


266  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


RELICS  AND  MEMORIALS. 

"  As  the  shadow  of  a  great  Rock  in  a  weary  land." 

The  Twelve  holy  men  are  gathered  in  prayer, 
The  Psalm  mounts  on  high,  the  Spirit  descends  : 
A  keen  silent  thrilling  is  round  them  in  air, 
A  Power  from  the   Highest  with  thought   and  word 
blends. 

They  pass  by  the  way,  to  sight  poor  and  mean. 
How  glorious  the  train  that  streams  to  and  fro  ! 
The  blind,   dumb,    halt,   withered,    by   hundreds    are 

seen, 
The  prisoners  of  Satan  lie  chained  where  they  go. 

O  lay  them  but  where  the  shadow  may  fall 
Of  Christ's  awful  Saint,  to  prayer  as  he  speeds  : 
The  mighty  love -token  all  fiends  shall  appal, 
A  gale  breathe  from  Eden,  assuaging  all  needs. 


Relics  and  Memorials.  2G7 

Or  bring  where  they  lie  Paul's  girdle  or  vest  : 
One  touch  and  one  word  : — the  pain  fleets  away, 
The  dark  hour  of  frenzy  is  charmed  into  rest  : — 
The  hem  of  Christ's  garment  all  creatures  obey. 

Christ  is  in  His  Saints  :  from  Godhead  made  Man 
The  virtue  goes  out,  the  whole  world  to  bless. 
O'er  lands  parched  and  weary  that  shadow  began 
To  spread  from  Saint  Peter,  and  ne'er  shall  grow  less. 


See  Acts  iv.  and  v. 


268  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


9. 


CARVED  ANGELS. 

"  Take  heed  that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones  :  for  in  Heaven 
their  angels  do  always  behold  the  Face  of  My  Father." 

Greatest  art  Thou  in  least,  O  Lord, 

And  even  thy  least  are  great  in  Thee  : 
A  mote  in  air,  a  random  word, 

Shall  save  a  soul  if  Thou  decree  : — 
Much  more  their  presence  sweet, 
Whom  with  an  oath  Thou  didst  into  thy  Kingdom 
greet. 

A  little  child's  soft  sleeping  face 

The  murderer's  knife  ere  now  hath  staid  : 
The  adulterous  eye,  so  foul  and  base, 
Is  of  a  little  child  afraid. 
They  cannot  choose  but  fear, 
Since  in  that  sign  they  feel  God  and  good  Angels 
near. 


Carved  Angels.  269 

For  by  the  Truth's  sure  oath  we  know, 
There  is  no  christened  babe  but  owns 
A  Watcher  mightier  than  his  foe, 
One  of  the  everlasting  Thrones, 
Who  in  high  Heaven  His  face 
Beholding  ever,  best  His  likeness  here  may  trace. 

As  in  each  tiny  drop  of  dew, 

Glistening  at  prime  of  morn,  they  mark 
Of  Heaven's  great  Sun  an  image  true, 
Hear  their  own  chantings  in  the  Lark, 
So,  sleeping  or  awake, 
They  love  to  tend  their  babes  for  holy  Bethlehem's 
sake. 

And  so  this  whole  fallen  world  of  ours. 

To  us  all  care,  and  sin,  and  spite, 
Is  even  as  Eden's  stainless  bowers 
To  the  pure  spirits  out  of  sight, — 
To  Angels  from  above, 
And  souls  of  infants,  sealed  by  new -creating  Love. 


270  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

Heaven  in  the  depth  and  height  is  seen  ; 

On  high  among  the  stars,  and  low 
In  deep  clear  waters  :  all  between 
Is  earth,  and  tastes  of  earth  :  even  so 
The  Almighty  one  draws  near 
To  strongest  seraphs  there,  to  weakest  infants  here. 

And  both  are  robed  in  white,  and  both 

On  evil  look  unharmed,  and  wear 
A  ray  so  pure,  ill  Powers  are  loth 
To  linger  in  the  keen  bright  air. 
As  Angels  wait  in  joy 
On  Saints,  so  on  the  old  the  duteous-hearted  boy. 

God's  Angels  keep  the  eternal  round 
Of  praise  on  high,  and  never  tire. 
His  Lambs  are  in  His  Temple  found 
Early,  with  all  their  hearts'  desire. 
They  boast  not  to  be  free, 
They  grudge  not  to  their  Lord  meek  ear  and  bended 
knee. 


Carved  Angels .  271 

0  well  and  wisely  wrought  of  old, 

Nor  without  guide,  be  sure,  who  first 
Did  cherub  forms  as  infants  mould, 

And  lift  them  where  the  full  deep  burst 
Of  awful  harmony 
Might   need   them   most,   to   waft   it   onward   to  the 
sky  : — 

Where  best  they  may  in  watch  and  ward 

Around  the  enthroned  Saviour  stand, 
May  quell,  with  sad  and  stern  regard, 
Unruly  eye  and  wayward  hand, 
May  deal  the  blessed  dole 
Of  saving  knowledge  round  from  many  a  holy  scroll. 

What  if  in  other  lines  than  ours 

They  write,  in  other  accents  speak  ? 
There  are  whom  watchful  Love  empowers 
To  read  such  riddles  ; — duteous  seek, 
And  thou  shalt  quickly  find. 
The  Mother  best  may  tell  the  eager  babe's  deep  mind. 


272  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

Haply  some  shield  their  arms  embrace, 
Rich  with  the  Lord's  own  blazonry. 
The  Cross  of  His  redeeming  grace, 

Or  His  dread  Wounds,  we  there  descry. 
His  standard-bearers  they  : 
Learn  we  to  face  them  on  the  dread  Procession  Day. 

And  O  !  if  aught  of  pride  or  lust 

Have  soiled  thee  in  the  world,  take  heed  : 
Entering,  shake  off  the  mire  and  dust. 
Angelic  eyes  are  keen,  to  read 
By  the  least  lightest  sign, 
When  we  foul  idle  thoughts  breathe  in  the  air  divine. 

And  how,  but  by  their  whisperings  soft, 

Feel  virgin  hearts  when  sin  is  near, 
Sin  even  in  dreams  unknown  ?  Full  oft 
Such  instinct  we  may  mark  in  fear, 
Nor  our  own  ill  endure 
In  presence  of  Christ's  babes,  and  of  their  Guardians 
pure. 


Holy  Places  and  Things.  273 


10. 
CHURCH  RITES. 

11  Christ  is  all,  and  in  aLL" 

The  wedding  guests  are  met, 

The  urns  are  duly  set, 
Even  as  the  Lord  had  taught  his  own  of  old. 

Filled  are  they  to  the  height 

With  water  pure  and  bright  : — 
Now  pour  them  out — 'tis  done,  and  purest  wine  behold. 

The  bridegroom  kneels  beside 

His  bashful  loving  bride  ; 
Earth  on  that  hour  seems  showering  all  her  best. 

But  more  than  Earth  e'er  knew 

He  wins,  if  hearts  be  true  : — 
An  Angel  friend,  to  share  his  everlasting  rest. 

A  babe  in  deep  repose 
Where  holy  water  flows 
Is  bathed,  while  o'er  him  holiest  words  are  said. 

T 


274  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

A  child  of  wrath  he  came — 
Now  hath  he  Jesus'  Name  : 
A  glory  like  a  Saint's  surrounds  his  favoured  head. 

A  mortal  youth  I  saw 

Nigh  to  God's  Altar  draw 
And  lowly  kneel,  while  o'er  him  pastoral  hands 

Were  spread  with  many  a  prayer, 

And  when  he  rose  up  there, 
He  could  undo  or  bind  the  dread  celestial  bands. 

When  Bread  and  Wine  he  takes, 

And  of  Christ's  Passion  makes 
Memorial  high  before  the  Mercy  Throne, 

Faith  speaks,  and  we  are  sure 

That  offering  good  and  pure 
Is  more  than  Angels'  bread  to  all  whom  Christ  will  own. 

Mid  mourners  I  have  stood, 

And  with  sad  eye  pursued 
The  coffin  sinking  in  the  grave's  dark  shade  : 

The  immortal  life,  we  know, 

Dwells  there  with  hidden  glow, 
Brightly  to  burn  one  day  when  sun  and  stars  shall  fade. 


Church  Rites.  275 

What  is  this  silent  might, 

Making  our  darkness  light, 
New  wine  our  waters,  heavenly  Blood  our  wine  ? 

Christ,  with  His  Mother  dear, 

And  all  His  Saints,  is  here, 
And   where  they   dwell    is  Heaven,   and   what   they 
touch,  divine. 

The  change  of  water  into  wine  was  believed  by  the  ancients  to  typify 
that  change  which  St.  Paul  in  particular  so  earnestly  dwells  on  :  "  Old 
things  are  passed  away:  behold,  all  things  are  become  new."  And  St. 
John,  "  He  that  sitteth  on  the  Throne  saith,  Behold,  I  make  all  things 
new."  Accordingly  St.  Cyprian  applies  this  first  miracle  to  the  admission 
of  the  Gentiles  into  the  Church.  (Ep.  63.  ed.  Fell.)  And  St.  Augustine, 
to  the  evangelical  interpretation  of  the  Old  Testament.  (In  Joan.  Tract. 
8.)  And  St.  Cyril  of  Alexandria  (in  loc.)  to  the  Spirit  superseding  the 
letter.  This  then  being  the  "  beginning  of  miracles,"  a  kind  of  pattern  of 
the  rest,  showed  how  Christ's  glory  was  to  be  revealed  in  the  effects  of 
His  Sacramental  Touch  ;  whether  immediately,  as  when  He  touched  the 
leper  and  healed  him  :  or  through  the  hem  of  His  garment  :  or  by  Saints, 
His  living  members,  according  to  His  Promise,  "  The  works  that  I  do  shall 
ye  do  also :  and  greater  works  than  these  shall  ye  do,  because  I  go  unto 
my  Father."  Thus,  according  to  the  Scriptures,  the  Sacramental  Touch 
of  the  Church  is  the  Touch  of  Christ :  and  her  system  is  "  deifica  disci- 
pline" a  rule  which,  in  some  sense,  makes  men  gods,  and  the  human, 
divine ;  and  all  this  depends  on  the  verity  of  the  Incarnation,  therefore 
His  Mother  is  especially  instrumental  in  it ;  besides  being,  as  nearest  to 
Him,  the  most  glorious  instance  of  it.  "  The  Mother  of  Jesus  is  there, 
and  both  Jesus  and  His  Disciples  are  called, — "  (He  as  the  Bridegroom 
and  Author  of  the  whole  mystery,  they  as  ministers,  servants,  and  instru- 
ments,)—to  this  mysterious  "marriage"  or  Communion  of  Saints. 


27^  Holy  Places  and  Tin 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

I.     The  Chrisom. 

"  These  are  they  which  have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white 
in  the  Blood  of  the  Lamb." 

All  gorgeous  hues  are  in  the  pure  white  beam. 
All  Christian  graces  in  one  drop  of  Love 
That  sparkles  from  the  bright  baptismal  stream 
-  Over  the  fair  young  brow,  where  gently  move 
Christ's  dawning  rays.     Therefore  the  veil  ye  wove, 
Good  Angels,  under  Bethlehem's  healing  star. 
Whose  virtue  this  our  new-born  joy  shall  prove. 
Is  spotless  white  :  and  from  its  folds  afar, 
Even  as  from  banner  waved  in  Angels'  war. 
The  dark  Powers   flee.      But  thou,   heaven-honoured 

child, 
Let  no  earth-stain  thy  robe  of  glory  mar  : 
Wrap  it  around  thy  bosom  undefiled  : 
Yet  spread  it  daily  in  the  clear  Heaven's  sight. 
To  be  new-bathed  in  its  own  native  Light 


White  Apparel.  Til 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

II.     The  Sunday  Dress. 

"  Blessed  is  he  that  watcheth  and  keepeth  his  garments." 

So  keep  thou,  by  calm  prayer  and  searching  thought, 
Thy  Chrisom  pure,  that  still  as  weeks  roll  by, 
And  Heaven  rekindles,  gladdening  earth  and  sky, 
The  glow  that  from  the  grave  our  Champion  brought, 
Pledge  of  high  victory  by  His  dread  Wounds  wrought, 
Thou  mayst  put  on  the  garb  of  Purity, 
And  from  thy  prayer  look  up  with  open  eye, 
Him  owning,  who  from  shame  and  sinful  blot 
Hath  kept  thee  safe,  nor  suffered  base  desire 
Thy  soul  to  haunt,  unhallowing  the  good  hour. 
Then  on  thy  way  to  church  rejoicing  fare, 
Yet  heedful,  gathering  up  from  earthly  mire 
The  glittering  folds  :  for  even  in  Sunday  air 
Foul  spirits  love  to  lurk  with  tainting  power. 


278  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 
III.     Confirmation. 

"  Ye  shall  be  as  the  wings  of  a  Dove,  that  is  covered  with  silver  wings." 

Speed  on,  ye  happy  Sunday  hours,  0  speed 
The  moment  when  a  richer  gift  shall  crown 
A  riper  faith  : — when  Childhood,  casting  down 
Her  innocent  vesture,  the  pure  Chrisom  weed, 
Shall  claim  the  sevenfold  radiance,  erst  decreed 
Where  true  hearts  kneel  'neath  Apostolic  hands. 
White  are  his  mantle  folds,  who  ready  stands 
Before  the  shrine,  to  bless  and  intercede  : 
And  duteous  maidens,  skilful  in  Love's  law, 
Unbidden  use  in  stainless  white  to  come  : 
As  doves,  that  to  the  bright  clouds  upward  draw, 
Plume  the  soft  lily  breast,  the  more  to  win 
Of  splendour  from  the  Light's  far  cloudless  home. 
0  deep,  that  hour,  the  bliss  or  curse  within  ! 


White  Apparel.  279 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

IV.    Priests  in  White. 

•«  When  they  enter  in  at  the  gates  of  the  inner  court,  they  shall  be  clothed 
with  linen  garments." 

Axd  even  the  very  walls  of  the  dread  place, 
And  the  tall  windows  with  their  breathing  lights, 
Speak  to  the  adoring  heart,  and  say,  No  base 
Or  week-day  garb  may  him  beseem,  who  writes 
God's  message  here  in  hearts  of  men, — invites 
To  the  bright  nuptial  feast  of  joy  and  grace. 
But  Angels  waiting  on  our  awful  rites 
Should  in  our  frail  and  mortal  Angel  trace 
Some  hue  of  their  own  robes,  what  time  they  raise 
The  censer,  heaped  with  prayer,  before  the  throne  : 
And  Innocents,  in  wonder  moved  to  gaze 
On  the  new  glory,  mantling  forms  well-known, 
Should  ask  and  learn  the  clue  to  Angels'  ways  : — 
"  The  vision  is  for  the  pure  heart  alone." 


280  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


11. 
WHITE  APPAREL. 

V.     Choristers  in  White. 

"—the  Levites  which  were  the  singers, with  their  sons  and  their 

brethren,  being  arrayed  in  white  linen." 

Within  a  reverend  Minster  I  have  stood, 

As  one  to  whom,  for  many  a  godless  deed, 

The  Choir  was  clos'd  : — fit  penance  and  due  meed 

Sad  conscience  own'd  it : — one  by  one  I  view'd 

With  wistful  eye  the  entering  multitude. 

At  last  with  joyous  step,  but  sober  heed 

Of  holy  things,  like  fawns  in  forest  mead, 

Timid  yet  happy,  the  white-robed  brood 

Of  Choristers  swept  by  : — then  musings  came, 

"  What  happier  dawn  of  being  than  to  meet 

Matins  and  vespers  here  with  punctual  feet  ? 

What  happier  close,  than  here  in  peace  to  lay, 

Wearing  the  white  robe  still,  th'  exhausted  frame, 

And  so,  through  life,  Heaven's  garb  and  speech  assay  ?" 


Jlli'ite  Apparel.  281 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

VI.     Bridal  White. 

"And  unto  her  was  granted  that  she  should  be  arrayed  in  fine  linen, 
white  and  clean." 

Once  more  unto  thine  Altar,  Lord,  once  more, 
In  vesture  of  thy  Saints  :  for  Joy  and  Love 
Have  vow'd,  to  day,  their  best  on  earth  to  prove, 
And  Pureness,  guardian  sole  of  their  rich  store 
Of  blessing  and  delight.     Arm  we  the  more 
Both  heart  and  limb  with  brightness  from  above  : 
So  may  we  scare  the  noisome  beasts  that  rove 
There  busiest,  where  Earth's  rapture  most  runs  o'er. 
Well  are  they  warn'd,  who  in  that  dangerous  bliss 
May  on  some  Innocent  look  down,  array'd 
In  bridal  white,  flower  of  the  nuptial  band, 
Unconscious,  yet  o'erjoy'd  :  nor  far  amiss 
Deem  they  perchance,  who  in  that  smiling  maid 
Heaven's  youngest  Angel  see,  with  wreath  in  hand. 


282  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

VII.     Penitents  in  White. 

"  Bring  forth  the  best  robe,  and  put  it  on  him." 

But  what  if  chrisom  robes  be  sin-denTd, 

If  nuptial  white  of  broken  vows  bear  trace, 

If  he  who  daily  in  the  holy  Place 

Wears  the  bright  albe,  in  heart  be  gross  and  wild, 

So  that  the  stones,  whereon  the  shrine  is  pil'd, 

Seem  to  cry  out,  "  Who  hath  requir'd  this  grace 

Of  thee,  the  consecrated  floor  to  pace, 

Thrice  pledg'd  and  thrice  forsworn  ?"  O  Saviour  mild, 

Hast  Thou,  for  these,  a  white  robe  yet  in  store  ? 

Yea  :  the  Church  path  is  by  the  fount  of  tears, 

And  a  grave  Angel  stands  beside  the  door, 

Laden  with  vests  for  contrite  pilgrims  meet. 

Him  trust  with  all  ;  sad  memories  and  dim  fears  ; 

Then  kneel  in  white  before  the  Mercy-seat. 


White  Apparel.  283 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

VIII.     White  upon  the  Altar. 

"  He  bought  fine  linen,  and  took  Him  down,  and  wrapped  Him  in  the 
linen." 

0  Lord,  give  gracious  humbleness  of  heart, 
And  chaste  and  grave  imaginings,  in  awe 
Veiled  evermore,  that  as  we  nearer  draw 
To  thy  tremendous  Altar,  or  impart 
Unto  thy  little  ones  the  skill  and  art 
Of  holy  things,  and  the  mysterious  law 
Whereby  Faith  sees  whate'er  Apostles  saw, 
No  ill  may  glance  or  eye  or  mind  athwart. 
So  unreproved  may  we  to  babes  declare 
The  secret  of  the  Altar's  snow-white  pall, 
And  of  the  linen  garment,  bright  and  fair, 
Spread  o'er  the  glorious  Sacrifice  when  all 
Have  tasted.     'Tis  as  Jesus'  winding  sheet, 
And  theirs,  who  die  clasping  His  sacred  Feet. 


284  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


11. 

WHITE  APPAREL. 

IX.     The  Winding  Sheet. 

M  Not  for  that  we  would  be  unclothed,  but  clothed  upon." 

Pure  is  the  glory  of  the  Chrisom  vest  ; 

Joyous  the  Sunday -robe  ;  all  hope  and  might 

The  heavenly  gleam,  when  dovelike  wings  alight 

On  the  twice-sealed  brow  ;  benignly  rest 

The  smiles  of  Angels  on  the  mitred  crest 

And  flowing  skirt  of  Priests,  whose  stainless,  white 

The  heart  belies  not  ;  or  on  striplings  bright, 

Glancing  like  spirits  through  the  region  blest  ; 

Or  on  glad  bridal  train,  around  the  shrine 

Gathered  with  starlike  and  unchanging  gleam  ; 

But  most  where  dimly  robes  of  penance  shine. 

Yet  all  is  vain,  if  the  last  glory  fail, 

If  with  the  cold  pale  shroud  the  Font's  pure  beam 

Blend  not,  and  o'er  all  hues  of  death  prevail. 


Holy  Places  and  Things.  285 


12. 


REDBREAST  IN  CHURCH. 

"  The  creature  itself  shall  be  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  corruption 
into  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God." 

What  is  this  sudden  thrill 

Of  notes  so  sweet  and  keen  ? 
The  organ's  waves  of  sound  are  still 

Within  the  awful  screen. 
In  prayer  are  bowed  both  head  and  knee, 
And  yet  unbidden  rings  and  free 

A  chant  from  one  unseen. 

A  winged  chorister 

From  his  arched  nook  on  high 
Makes  in  the  calm  a  gladsome  stir, 

His  proper  melody  : 
A  Redbreast  blithe,  Ins  evening  hymn 
Trying  amid  the  shadows  dim, 

Attracts  both  ear  and  eye. 


286  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

Nor  time  nor  tune  are  there, 
Yet  sounds  the  unruly  joy 
Meet  for  the  hour,  nor  spoils  the  prayer 

Even  of  the  gazing  boy. 
It  seems  to  say,  Not  man  alone 
Lives  in  the  shade  of  Jesus'  Throne, 
And  shares  the  Saints'  employ. 

The  Angels  out  of  sight 

Worship  with  us,  we  know  ; 

And  who  can  say  what  pure  warm  light 
The  unreasoning  tribes  below 

May  by  their  kindly  wafting  feel  ? 

What  gleams  to  guide,  what  balms  to  heal 
From  Christ  on  earth  may  flow  ? 

Bird,  beast,  and  insect  hail 

Warm  sun  and  fragrant  shower. 
The  sheep  in  Bethlehem's  thymy  dale, 

In  Blessed  Mary's  bower 
The  ox  and  ass — to  them  was  given 
To  see  our  Lord  :  the  Light  of  Heaven 
Fell  on  them  in  that  hour. 


Redbreast  in  Church,  287 

And  since  our  Lord  she  bare 

In  triumph  to  His  place, 
One  patient  beast  hath  seemed  to  wear 

The  mark  of  His  high  grace, 
His  token  to  dumb  creatures,  freed 
From  slavery  and  unholy  deed, 

From  cruel  tasks  and  base  : — 

Freed  by  the  mighty  Cross, 

And  pure. — O  mark  it,  all 
Who  bear  that  sign  !  0  fear  and  loss, 

Should  ye  again  enthrall 
To  woe  and  wrong  His  creatures,  sealed 
For  blessing,  aid  to  earn  and  yield, 

As  ere  our  father's  fall  ! 


288  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

13. 

DISUSE  OF  EXCOMMUNICATION. 

"  Having  in  a  readiness  to  revenge  all  disobedience,  when  your  obedience 
is  fulfilled." 

O  wondrous  warfare  of  the  Spouse  of  God, 
Trampled  to  earth,  yet  wielding  bolts  so  keen, 

She  dares  not  hurl  them  in  her  wrath  abroad. 
Only  their  ireful  lustre  glares  half- seen. 

For  if  she  once  unlock  her  quivered  store, 

Once  speak  the  words  that  in  her  bosom  dwell, 

Earth  could  not  bear  the  sound  ;  the  anguish  sore 
Might  drive  her  haughtiest  to  the  scourge  and  cell. 

For  she  hath  power  to  shut  the  Heaven  on  high, 
Oft  as  in  hallowed  air  her  dread  notes  thrill, 

That  no  shower  fall  :  and  she  may  smite  and  try 
Earth  with  all  plagues,  as  often  as  she  will. 

Only  her  potent  arm  now  for  a  space 

Lies  withered  :  quenched  and  dull  her  arrowy  fires, 
Like  smouldering  brands  in  dayh'ght,  till  her  race 

Wake,  as  of  old,  to  heaven-born  high  desires. 


Disuse  of  Excommunication.  28(.) 

But  would  one  Church  Christ's  awful  lore  obey, 
Like  Saints  of  old, — one  household,  one  true  heart, 

Such  sacrifice  might  open  the  dread  way 
For  the  Old  Signs,  for  Paul's  or  Moses'  art. 

Darkness  and  mist,  at  one  stern  word  of  thine, 
Might  even  on  scorners'  outward  eyes  descend  ; 

Fire  might  break  out  of  each  insulted  shrine, 
Thy  locusts  spoil  them,  and  thy  lions  rend. 

Haunt  us,  dire  thought  !  where'er  we  walk  in  sin 
That  mighty  secret  Power  is  all  our  foe  : 

But  they  who  bear  unharm'd  Heaven's  seal  within 
May  through  the  penal  fires  rejoicing  go. 

So  when  the  storm  is  rife  among  the  hills, 
Roused  on  his  heathery  bed  the  mountain  boy 

To  every  flash  that  through  the  dim  air  thrills 

Keeps  time  with  eager  hands,  and  screams  for  joy. 

Note  from  the  Life  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  i.  83.  "There  is  a  story 
of  his  having  been  forgotten  one  day  among  the  knolls  when  a  thun- 
derstorm came  on  ;  and  his  aunt,  suddenly  recollecting  his  situation,  and 
running-  out  to  bring  him  home,  is  said  to  have  found  him  lying  on  his 
back,  clapping  his  hands  at  the  lightning,  and  crying  out,  '  Bonny,  bonny," 
at  every  flash." 

U 


290  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


14. 

DISUSE  OF  INFANT  COMMUNION. 

"  There  shall  meet  you  a  man  bearing  a  pitcher  of  water  :  follow  him. 

O  Lord,  behold  these  babes  are  Thine, 
Thy  treasured  nurslings  pure  and  sweet  : 

We  have  sought  counsel  at  thy  shrine  : 

"  Where  may  they  sit  with  Thee,  and  eat  T 
Thou  saidst,  "  The  Water-Bearer  meet 

Within  the  chosen  City's  round, 

Trace  Him  along  the  hallowed  street, 

And  where  He  guides,  be  duteous  found. 

"  Where  glorious  Sion  rests  on  high 

Amid  the  hills  that  on  her  wait, 
Him  faithful  following,  ye  shall  spy 

A  wicket  in  a  lowly  gate  : 

There  early  knock,  there  linger  late, 
There  in  Christ's  Name  the  room  require, 

Where  the  Great  Lord  in  royal  state 
Shall  eat  the  Bread  of  His  desire. 
T 


Disuse  of  Infant  Communion.  291 

"  Then  to  the  spacious  upper  room 

The  Host  will  bid  you  onward  fare. 
Round  many  a  nook  of  deepest  gloom, 

Up  many  a  broken  wearying  stair. 

The  handmaid  Penance  hath  been  there, 
And  swept  and  garnished  all  the  place. 

Haste,  and  with  loyal  hands  prepare 
For  Me  and  Mine  the  Feast  of  Grace." 

Thou  spak'st,  and  we  thine  infants  bore, 

And  bathed  them  in  the  Living  Well 
That  gushes  out  beside  the  door, 

Where  Thou,  O  Lord,  delight'st  to  dwell  : 

Then  lowly  on  our  knees  we  fell, 
And  prayed,  that  through  the  world's  hot  day 

Dews  from  that  hour,  a  balmy  spell, 
Might  gently  freshen  all  their  way. 

Xo\\r,  trembling  still  as  they  advance 

Up  the  far  shadowing  awful  nave, 
Full  oft  we  bid  them  backward  glance 

Where  gleaming  from  its  heavenly  cave, — 


292  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

The  Saviour's  side, — the  healing  wave 
Falls  in  the  fount  of  their  new  birth. 

The  ears  that  hear  its  murmuring,  crave 
No  tinsel  melodies  of  earth. 

When  to  the  Chancel  arch  they  come, 

"  Pause  here,"  we  say,  "  and  search  with  fear 
If  yet  the  pledge  of  your  high  doom 

Upon  the  sealed  brow  appear. 

If  worn  and  faint,  by  many  a  tear 
Renew  the  lines,  then  humbly  kneel 

Till  He  invite — till  sure  and  near 
The  gliding  of  soft  wings  ye  feel. 

"  Then  to  the  inner  shrine  make  haste, 
Fall  prostrate  with  anointed  brows, 

Adore,  and  of  the  Adored  taste. 

Such  bliss  the  Love  untold  allows."^ 
Of  old,  we  read,  the  intrusted  Spouse 

Her  infants  to  the  Anointing  led 

Straight  from  the  Laver  and  the  vows  ; — 

Yea,  Christ  was  then  the  children's  bread. 


Disuse  of  Infant  Communion.  293 

But  now  some  mournful  instinct  chills 
Our  Mother's  joy,  and  mars  our  spring  : 

She,  as  of  old,  to  the  bright  hills 

Her  eaglets'  speed  at  once  would  wing  : 
Now  far  and  wide  earth's  vapours  fling 

Their  tainting  dews  ;  and  she  perchance 
Shrinks  from  the  fall  such  flight  may  bring, 

Fears  the  debasing,  downward  glance. 

Then  in  low  place  with  lowly  heart 
Wait  we,  dear  babe,  both  thou  and  I, 

Bide  we  our  time,  and  take  such  part 
In  the  Bride's  awful  minstrelsy, 
As  she  whose  laws  are  sealed  on  high 

Ordains  :  and  if  long  lingering  tire, 
Yet  may  we  hope,  Faith's  virgin  sigh 

The  purer  mounts,  to  meet  Heaven's  fire. 


294  Holy  Places  and  Things, 


15. 


THE  OFFERTORY. 

M  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver." 

Christ  before  thy  door  is  waiting  ; 
Rouse  thee,  slave  of  earthly  gold. 

Lo,  He  comes,  thy  pomp  abating, 
Hungry,  thirsty,  homeless,  cold  :— 
Hungry,  by  whom  Saints  are  fed 
With  the  Eternal  Living  Bread  ; 
Thirsty,  from  whose  pierced  side 
Healing  waters  spring  and  glide  ; 

Cold  and  bare  He  comes,  who  never 
May  put  off  His  robe  of  light  ; 

Homeless,  who  must  dwell  for  ever 
In  the  Father's  Bosom  bright. 


The  Offertory.  295 

In  kind  ambush  alway  lying 

He  besets  thy  bed  and  path. 
Fain  would  see  thee  hourly  buying 

Prayers  against  the  time  of  wrath. 

Prayers  of  thankful  mourners  here, 

Prayers  that  in  Love's  might  appear 

With  the  offerings  of  the  Blest, 

At  the  shrine  of  perfect  rest. 
See,  His  undecaying  treasure 

Lies  like  dew  upon  the  grass, 
To  be  won  and  stored  at  pleasure  : — 

But  its  hour  will  quickly  pass. 

Christ  before  His  Altar  standing, 

Priest  of  Priests,  in  His  own  Day, 
Calls  on  thee,  some  fruit  demanding 

Of  the  week's  heaven- guarded  way. 

See  His  Arm  stretch'd  out  to  bless  : 

Whoso  nearest  to  Him  press, 

Open-handed,  eagle-eyed, 

They  may  best  that  Arm  abide, 
When,  the  last  dread  lightnings  wielding, 

He  shall  lift  it,  and  decree, 


296  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

"  Go,  ye  churls  of  soul  unyielding, 
Where  nor  gift  nor  prayer  shall  be." 

Jesus  in  His  babes  abiding 

Shames  our  cold  ungentle  ways, 
Silently  the  young  heart  guiding 

To  unconscious  love  and  praise. 

See  out-reached  the  fingers  small, 

Ever,  at  each  playful  call, 

Ready  to  dispense  around 

Joys  and  treasures  newly  found. 
Fearless  they  of  waste  or  spoiling 

Nought  enjoy  but  what  they  share  ; 
Grudging  thought  and  care  and  moiling 

Live  not  in  their  pure  glad  air. 

Strange  the  law  of  Love's  combining  ! — 
As  with  wild  winds  moaning  round 

Tones  from  lute  or  harp  entwining 
Make  one  thread  of  solemn  sound  ; — 
As  calm  eve's  autumnal  glow 
Answers  to  the  woods  below  ; — 


The  Offertory.  297 

As  in  landscape  leaf  or  stone, 

Cloud  or  flower,  at  random  thrown, 
Helps  the  sadness  or  the  glory  ; — 

So  the  gift  of  playful  child 
May  recall  thy  natal  story, 

Church  of  Salem  undefiled  ! 

How  the  new-born  Saints,  assembling 

Daily  'neath  the  shower  of  fire, 
To  their  Lord  in  hope  and  trembling 

Brought  the  choice  of  earth's  desire. 

Never  incense-cloud  so  sweet 

As  before  the  Apostles'  feet 

Rose,  majestic  Seer,  from  thee, 

Type  of  royal  hearts  and  free, 
Son  of  holiest  consolation, 

When  thou  turn'dst  thy  land  to  gold, 
And  thy  gold  to  strong  salvation, 

Leaving  all,  by  Christ  to  hold  : — 

Type  of  Priest  and  Monarch,  casting 
All  their  crowns  before  the  Throne, 

And  the  treasure  everlasting 
Heaping  in  the  world  unknown. 


298 


Holy  Places  and  Things. 


Now  in  gems  their  relics  lie, 
And  their  names  in  blazonry, 
And  their  forms  from  storied  panes 
Gleam  athwart  their  own  lov'd  fanes, 

Each  his  several  radiance  flinging 
On  the  sacred  Altar  floor, 

Whether  great  ones  much  are  bringing, 
Or  their  mite  the  mean  and  poor. 


Bring  thine  all,  thy  choicest  treasure, 
Heap  it  high  and  hide  it  deep  : 

Thou  shalt  win  overflowing  measure, 
Thou  shalt  climb  where  skies  are  steep. 
For  as  Heaven's  true  only  light 
Quickens  all  those  forms  so  bright,    * 
So  where  Bounty  never  faints, 
There  the  Lord  is  with  His  Saints, 

Mercy's  sweet  contagion  spreading 
Far  and  wide  from  heart  to  heart, 

From  His  Wounds  atonement  shedding 
On  the  blessed  widow's  part. 


Holy  Places  and  Things. 


16. 


CHURCH  BELLS. 

"  Let  the  hills  hear  thy  voice."' 

"  Wake  me  to-night,  my  mother  clear, 

That  I  may  hear 
The  Christmas  Bells,  so  soft  and  clear, 
To  high  and  low  £lad  tidino-s  tell, 
How  God  the  Father  loved  us  well, 

How  God  the  Eternal  Son 
Came  to  undo  what  we  had  done, 
How  God  the  Paraclete, 
Who  in  the  chaste  womb  framed  the  Babe  so  sweet, 
In  power  and  glory  came,  the  birth  to  aid  and  greet. 


300  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

"  Wake  me,  that  I  the  twelvemonth  long 

May  bear  the  song 
About  with  me  in  the  world's  throng  ; 
That  treasured  joys  of  Christmas  tide 
May  with  mine  hour  of  gloom  abide  ; 

The  Christmas  carol  ring 
Deep  in  my  heart,  when  I  would  sing  ; 
Each  of  the  twelve  good  days 
Its  earnest  yield  of  duteous  love  and  praise, 
Ensuring  happy  months,  and  hallowing  common  ways. 

"  Wake  me  again,  my  mother  dear, 

That  I  may  hear 
The  peal  of  the  departing  year. 
O  well  I  love,  the  step  of  Time 
vShould  move  to  that  familiar  chime  : 

Fair  fall  the  tones  that  steep 
The  Old  Year  in  the  dews  of  sleep, 
The  New  guide  softly  in 
With  hopes  to  sweet  sad  memories  akin  ! 
Long  may  that  soothing  cadence  ear,  heart,  conscience 
win." 


Church  Bells.  301 

In  the  dark  winter,  ere  the  snow 

Had  lost  its  glow, 
This  melody  we  learned  ;  and  lo  ! 
We  hear  it  now  in  every  breeze 
That  stirs  on  high  the  summer  trees. 

We  pause  and  look  around — 
WTiere  may  the  lone  church-tower  be  found, 
That  speaks  our  tongue  so  well  ? 
The  dim  peal  in  the  torrent  seems  to  dwell, 
It  greets  us  from  afar  in  Ocean's  measured  swell. 

Perhaps  we  sit  at  home,  and  dream 

On  some  high  theme, 
And  forms,  that  in  low  embers  gleam, 
Come  to  our  twilight  Fancy's  aid  : 
Then,  wavering  as  that  light  and  shade, 

The  breeze  will  sigh  and  wail, 
And  up  and  down  its  plaintive  scale 
Range  fitfully,  and  bear 
Meet  burden  to  the  lowly  whispered  air, 
And  ever  the  sweet  bells,  that  charmed  Life's  morn, 
are  there. 


302  Holy  Places  and  Thing  is. 

The  pine-logs  on  the  hearth  sometimes 

Mimic  the  chimes, 
The  while  on  high  the  white  wreath  climbs, 
Which  seething  waters  upward  fling, 
In  prison  wont  to  dance  and  sing, 

All  to  the  same  low  tune. 
But  most  it  loves  in  bowers  of  June 
At  will  to  come  and  go, 
Where  like  a  minster  roof  the  arched  boughs  show, 
And  court  the  pensive  ear  of  loiterer  far  below. 

Be  mine  at  Vesper  hour  to  stray 

Full  oft  that  way, 
And  when  the  dreamy  sounds  decay, 
As  with  the  sun  the  gale  dies  down, 
Then  far  away,  from  tower  or  town, 

A  true  peal  let  me  hear, 
In  manifold  melodious  cheer, 
Through  all  the  lonely  grove 
Wafting  a  fair  good-night  from  His  high  love, 
Who   strews    our   world   with    signs   from   His    own 
world  above. 


Church  Bells.  303 

So  never  with  regretful  eve 

Need  we  descry 
Dark  mountains  in  the  evening  sky. 
Nor  on  those  ears  with  envy  think, 
Which  nightly  from  the  cataract  shrink 

In  heart -ennobling  fear, 
And  in  the  rushing  whirlwind  hear 
(When  from  his  Highland  cave 
He  sweeps  unchained  over  the  wintry  wave) 
Ever   the    same    deep    chords,    such   as   home  fancies 
crave. 

Ever  the  same,  yet  ever  new, 

Changed  and  yet  true. 
Like  the  pure  heaven's  unfailing  blue, 
Which  varies  on  from  hour  to  hour, 
Yet  of  the  same  high  Love  and  Power 

Tells  alway  : — such  may  seem 
Through  life,  or  waking  or  in  dream, 
The  echoing  Bells  that  gave 
Our  childhood  welcome  to  the  healing  wave  : 
Such  the  remembered  Word,  so  mighty  then  to  save. 


304  Holy  Places  and  Things. 


17. 

CONTINUAL  SERVICES. 

(For  the  Sunday  before  Advent.) 
"  Gather  up  the  fragments  that  remain,  that  nothing  be  lost.' 

O  endless  round  of  Nature's  wheel, 
How  doth  thine  untired  course  reveal 

The  universal  spring 
Of  Power  and  Motion  !  Not  in  keen     , 
And  sudden  startings,  far  between,* 

But  smooth  as  sea-bird's  wing, 
Gliding  unwearied,  now  in  air 

And  now  in  Ocean, 
As  though  Life's  only  call  and  care 
Were  graceful  motion. 


*  Continuo,  non  vero  per  saltum." 

Newton. 


Continual  Services.  305 

Such  are  your  changes,  Space  and  Time, 
Dying  away  in  softest  chime, 

AVith  gentlest  intervals 
Aye  lessening  on  the  ear,  and  felt 
As  when  into  each  other  melt 

The  hues  where  evening  falls. 
Thus  moon  to  moon  gives  silent  place, 

And  bright  stars  waning 
Gradual  retire,  while  morn's  still  pace 
On  night  is  gaming. 


Thus  or  for  increase  or  decay 

The  seasons  wind  their  viewless  way, 

Nor  but  by  word  of  man 
Or  measure  rude  by  man  imposed, 
Is  known  when  day  or  year  hath  closed, 

Summer  or  Winter's  span. 
And  ever  onward  as  we  go, 

The  wide  earth  rounding, 
The  horizon  moves  in  gentle  flow, 

Not  in  harsh  bounding. 


306  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

For  why  ?  the  unseen  Preserver's  law 
Is  nigh,  to  master  and  o'erawe 

The  creatures  in  their  race, 
Else  starting  each  its  own  wild  way. 
So  Nature,  saved  from  disarray, 

Is  free  to  wait  on  Grace  : 
And  still,  as  Earth  and  Time  steal  on 

To  their  dread  ending, 
New  fragments  may  of  both  be  won 
For  holy  spending. 


Thus  high  may  soar  the  instructed  soul, 
Watching  young  fingers  idly  roll 

The  mimic  earth,  or  trace 
In  picture  bright  of  blue  and  gold 
The  orbs  that  round  the  sky's  deep  fold 

Each  other  circling  chase. 
When  plainest  strikes  the  inward  ear 

What  Heaven  hath  spoken, 
Then  most  for  our  own  chant  we  fear, 
So  harsh  and  broken. 


Continual  Services.  307 

His  spheres,  recede  they  or  advance, 
Before  Him  in  mysterious  dance 

Keep  tune  and  time  ;  nor  e'er 
Fails  from  this  lower  world  a  wreath 
Of  incense,  such  as  sweet  flowers  breathe, 

And  vernal  breezes  bear. 
Only  man's  frail  sin -wearied  heart 

Bears,  half  in  sadness, 
A  wavering,  intermitted  part 
In  that  high  gladness. — 

Yes  :  so  it  was  ere  Jesus  came. 
Alternate  then  His  altar-flame 

Blazed  up  and  died  away  ; 
And  Silence  took  her  turn  with  Song, 
And  Solitude  with  the  fair  throng 

That  owned  the  festal  day. 
For  in  earth's  daily  circuit  then 

One  only  border 
Reflected  to  the  Seraphs'  ken 
Heaven's  li^ht  and  order. 


308  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

But  now  to  the  revolving  sphere 
We  point,  and  say,  No  desert  here, 

No  waste  so  dark  and  lone, 
But  to  the  hour  of  sacrifice 
Comes  daily  in  its  turn,  and  lies 

In  light  beneath  the  Throne. 
Each  point  of  time,  from  morn  to  eve, 

From  eve  to  morning, 
The  shrine  doth  from  the  Spouse  receive 
Praise  and  adorning. 

While  on  our  couch  we  listless  dream, 
Or  drink  perforce  of  care's  dull  stream, 

Yet  somewhere  in  that  hour 
The  holy  words  are  uttered,  Earth 
Is  partner  made  in  Angels'  mirth, 

The  unspeakable,  pure  shower 
Of  blessings  to  the  unbloody  rite 

Even  now  is  winging 
Its  awful  way,  The  Infinite 
To  meek  hearts  bringing. 


Continual  Services.  309 

'Tis  said,  of  yore  some  child  of  pride 
Would  vaunt  him  how  his  empire  wide 

The  bright  sun  never  left. 
So  in  the  Name  of  our  dread  King 
Of  incense  and  pure  offering 

We  never  are  bereft. 
'Tis  morning  here,  'tis  evening  there, 

And  prayer  must  vary  ; 
But  evermore  through  silent  air, 
Xor  dull  nor  weary, 

From  earth,  the  footstool  of  His  feet, 
Mounts  to  the  Lord  the  savour  sweet 

Of  That  which  once  for  all 
He  gave  upon  the  Cross,  and  we 
Give  daily,  earth's  release  to  be 

From  daily  woe  and  thrall. 
Thus  to  Heaven's  Bride,  so  chaste  and  sweet, 

A  voice  is  granted, 
The  notes  untiring  to  repeat 
In  high  Heaven  chanted. 


310  Holy  Places  and  Things. 

Then  mourn  we  not  with  drooping  heart, 
Though  half  the  globe  may  seem  to  part 

Our  prayers  from  home  and  friends. 
Our  matins  meet  their  even  song, 
And  the  dread  Offering,  all  day  long, 

All  prayer,  all  duty  blends. 
The  Eucharist  of  God's  dear  Son, 

Like  Him  undying, 
Is  mighty,  worlds  and  hearts  in  one 
For  ever  tying. 

Wherefore  in  solemn  cheer  we  pass 

(Now  that  the  Church  hath  turned  her  glass) 

From  year  to  dawning  year. 
All  years  to  Him  are  one  :  and  thou, 
In  virtue  of  thy  first  dread  vow 

Signing  thyself  in  fear, 
Make  haste,  dear  child,  and  onward  press 

To  high  Communion  : — 
Thy  fragments  He  will  glean,  and  bless 
With  perfect  union. 


311 


f  ♦    $Jrt£  gfotuum*  anil  Mays. 


i. 


CHRISTMAS  EVE  :  VESPERS. 

"  If  it  bear  fruit,  well :  if  not,  then  after  that  Thou  shalt  cut  it  down.' 

The  duteous  sun  hath  ceased  to  keep 

The  vigil  of  His  wondrous  birth, 
Who  in  few  hours,  while  sinners  sleep, 
Shall  dawn  on  thankless  earth. 

The  sun  is  set,  the  stars  begin 

Their  stations  in  His  watch  on  high, 
As  once  around  that  Bethlehem  inn  ; 
The  vesper  hour  is  nigh. 


312  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

A  little  maid  with  eager  gaze 

Comes  hurrying  to  the  House  of  Prayer, 
Shaping  in  heart  a  wild  green  maze 
Of  woodland  branches  there. 

One  look, — a  cloud  comes  o'er  her  dream  : 
No  burnished  leaves,  so  fresh  and  clear, 
No  berries  with  their  ripe  red  gleam  : — 
"  There  is  no  Christmas  here." 

What  if  that  little  maiden's  Lord, 

The  awful  Child  on  Mary's  knee, 
Even  now  take  up  the  accusing  word  : — 
"  No  Christmas  here  I  see. 

"  Where  are  the  fruits  I  yearly  seek, 

As  holy  seasons  pass  away, 
Eyes  turned  from  ill,  lips  pure  and  meek, 
A  heart  that  strives  to  pray  ? 

"  Where  are  the  glad  and  artless  smiles, 

Like  clustering  hollies,  seen  afar 

At  eve  along  the  o'ershaded  aisles, 

With  the  first  twilight  star  ?" 


Christmas  Eve  :  Vespers.  313 

Spare,  gracious  Saviour,  me  and  mine  : 

Our  tardy  vows  in  mercy  hear, 
While  on  our  watch  the  cold  skies  shine 
Of  the  departing  year. 

Ere  we  again  that  glimmering  view, 

Cleansed  be  our  hearts  and  lowly  laid  ; 
The  unfruitful  plant  do  Thou  renew, 
And  all  beneath  its  shade. 

By  winter  frosts  and  summer  heats, 

By  prunings  sharp  and  waterings  mild, 

Keen  airs  of  Lent,  and  Easter  sweets, 

Tame  Thou  the  sour  and  wild. 

1 

And  dare  we  ask  for  one  year  more  ? 

Yea,  there  is  hope  :  One  waits  on  high 

To  tell  our  contrite  yearnings  o'er, 

And  each  adoring  sigh. 

If  He  in  Heaven  repeat  our  vow, 

We  copying  here  His  pure  dread  Will, — 
0  dream  of  joy  ! — the  withered  bough 
May  blush  with  fruitage  still. 


i 


314  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 


CHRISTMAS  EVE:  COMPLINE. 

"  Rejoice  in  the  Lord  alway." 

Rejoice  in  God*  alway, 

With  stars  in  Heaven  rejoice, 
Ere  dawn  of  Christ's  own  day 

Lift  up  each  little  voice. 
Look  up  with  pure  glad  eye, 
And  count  those  lamps  on  high. 
Nay,  who  may  count  them  ?  on  our  gaze 
They   from  their  deeps  come  out  in  ever  widening 
maze. 

Each  in  his  stand  aloof 

Prepares  his  keenest  beam, 
Upon  that  hovel  roof, 

In  at  that  door,  to  stream, 


Christmas  Eve :  Compline.  315 

Where  meekly  waits  her  time 

The  whole  earth's  Flower  and  Prime  : — 
Where  in  few  hours  the  Eternal  One 
Will  make  a  clear  new  day,  rising  before  the  sun. 

Rejoice  in  God  alway, 

With  each  green  leaf  rejoice, 
Of  berries  on  each  spray 

The  brightest  be  your  choice. 
From  bower  and  mountain  lone 
The  autumnal  hues  are  gone, 
Yet  gay  shall  be  our  Christmas  wreath, 
The    glistening    beads   above,    the   burnished    leaves 
beneath. 

Such  garland  grave  and  fair 
His  Church  to-day  adorns. 
And — mark  it  well — even  there 

He  wears  His  crown  of  thorns. 
Should  aught  profane  draw  near, 
Full  many  a  guardian  spear 
Is  set  around,  of  power  to  go 
Deep  in  the  reckless  hand,  and  stay  the  grasping  Foe. 


316  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Rejoice  in  God  alway, 

With  Powers  rejoice  on  high, 
Who  now  with  glad  array- 
Are  gathering  in  the  sky, 
His  cradle  to  attend, 
And  there  all  lowly  bend. 
But  half  so  low  as  He  hath  bowed 
Did  never  highest  Angel  stoop  from  brightest  cloud. 

Rejoice  in  God  alway, 

All  creatures,  bird  and  beast, 
Rejoice,  again  I  say, 

His  mightiest  and  His  least  ; 
From  ox  and  ass  that  wait 
Here  on  His  poor  estate, 
To  the  four  living  Powers,  decreed 
A  thousand  ways  at  once  His  awful  car  to  speed. 

Rejoice  in  God  alway  : 

With  Saints  in  Paradise 
Your  midnight  service  say, 

For  vigil  glad  arise. 


Christmas  Eve  :  Compline.  317 

Even  they  in  their  calm  bowers 
Too  tardy  find  the  hours 
Till  He  reveal  the  wondrous  Birth  : 
How  must  we  look  and  long,  chained  here  to  sin  and 
earth  ! 

Ye  babes,  to  Jesus  dear, 
Rejoice  in  Him  alway. 
Ye  whom  He  bade  draw  near,        •# 

O'er  whom  He  loved  to  pray, 
Wake  and  lift  up  the  head 
Each  in  his  quiet  bed. 
Listen  :  His  voice  the  night -wind  brings  : 
He  in  your  cradles  lies,  He  in  our  carols  sings. 


318  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 


3. 

CHRISTMAS  DAY. 

f  While  waiting  on  an  Infant  at  kome.j 

"  Behold,  i  and  the  children  which  God  hath  given  me." 

Thou,  who  didst  choose  thine  awful  room 
Within  the  undefiled  womb. — 
The  bridal  chamber,  where  our  God 
For  spousals  high  made  brief  abode. 
High  spousals,  evermore  to  bind 
The  Godhead  with  our  fallen  kind  : —    - 
Now  while  the  o'erarching  clouds  among 
Echoes  the  Angels'  matin  song, 
While,  heart  and  hand, 
In  every  land 
The  Saints  their  sacrifice  prepare 

The  Cradle  to  adore  of  Heaven's  dread  Heir. 
Behold  where  in  the  silent  shade 

Thy  slumbering  little  ones  till  matin  prime  are  laid. 


Christmas  Day.  319 

Soon  will  a  thousand  bells  ring  out, 

A  thousand  roofs  the  choral  shout 

Prolong,  where  Kings  with  Shepherds  meet 

His  manger  with  their  gifts  to  greet. 

What  shall  we  do,  mine  infant  dear, 

Who  may  not  those  glad  anthems  hear  ? 

How  shall  we  serve  Him,  thou  and  I, 

Far  from  that  glorious  company  ? 
Thou  smil'st  in  sleep  : 
Who  knows  how  deep 

The  dream  of  joy  that  smile  denotes  ? 
Mild  as  the  summer  lightning,  see,  it  floats, 

As  if,  the  new-born  Spirit  o'er, 
Came  voices  low  from  where  departed  babes  adore. 

Such  is  thy  silent  Liturgy, 
But  what  is  ours  who  wait  on  thee  ? 
We  offer  thee  to  Him,  this  hour, 
Who  in  like  slumber  veil'd  His  power  : 
Thy  cradle  with  its  hopes  and  fears. 
Thy  May-day  smiles  and  April  tears, 
Whate'er  thou  hast,  whate'er  thou  art, 


320  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Howe'er  thy  mother's  dreaming  heart 
Shapes  thy  bright  doom 
In  years  to  come  ; — 
All  with  that  offering  would  we  blend, 
Which  Saints  on  earth  to  Angel  hands  commend 

To  bear  on  high,  this  favoured  day, 
And  on  the  sovereign  Babe's  unquenched  altar  lay. 

Mysterious  are  these  smiles  of  thine  ; 

But  of  that  Face,  the  Godhead's  shrine, 

Those  holy  lips,  that  awful  brow, 

Nor  Angel  then  nor  Prophet  now 

Might  truly  deem  ;  none  trace  aright 

Those  hoverings  of  supernal  light. 

No  more  to  sight,  in  earth  or  heaven, 

Shall  the  Eternal  Child  be  given, 
But,  Infant  dear, 
Unveiled  and  clear, 

Thou  shalt  behold  Him  as  He  died, 
Thine  eye  shall  gaze  upon  the  Crucified  : 

In  mercy  may  He  meet  thy  gaze, 
And  all  the  joy  fulfil  of  all  His  bright  glad  days  ! 


Holy  Seasons  and  Days.  321 


4. 


THE  EPIPHANY. 

"  They  saw  the  young  Child  with  Mary  His  Mother,  and  when  they  had 
opened  their  treasures,  they  presented  unto  Him  gifts." 

How  gaily  seems  the  sun  to  rise 

On  christening  days  and  days  of  birth, 
Whether  he  smile  in  summer  skies, 

Or  faintly  warm  the  wintry  earth  ! 
Bright  are  the  dreams  he  drives  away, 
And  bright  the  promise  of  that  day. 
All  charms,  all  gifts  of  Love  are  there, 
Love  breathes  in  all  the  fragrant  air. 

Oh  haste  we  then  to-day  to  greet 
Him  who  is  born  our  glorious  King  : 

Of  gold  and  myrrh  and  incense  sweet 
Your  treasures  to  His  cradle  bring. 


322  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

%      The  Virgin  Mother  waiting  by 

Your  offering  scans  with  earnest  eye, 
Angels  and  Saints  with  jealous  heed 
Watch  if  you  bring  your  best  indeed. 

And  He,  the  Holiest,  Humblest  One, 
Making  as  though  He  could  not  see, — 

Yet  is  His  Eye  all  hearts  upon. 
0  may  He  find  some  good  in  me  ! 

A  poor,  weak,  wayward  soul  is  mine, 

Yet  own  I,  Lord,.  Thy  saving  sign. 

Thou  seest  me  daily,  how  before 

Thy  gracious  footsteps  I  adore. 

Fain  would  I  there  my  stores  unfold, 

And  of  the  gifts  Thy  Love  hath  given 
One  heart  restore  of  virgin  gold, 

One  prayer,  like  incense,  seeking  Heaven, 
One  drop  of  penitential  Love, 
Fragrant  and  dear  to  God  above, 
Yet  bitter  in  the  mouth  as  gall, 
Fain  would  I  bring  Thee  :  'tis  mine  all. 


The  Epiphany.  323 

O  blessed,  who  with  eyes  so  pure 

Have  watched  Thy  cradle  day  by  day, 

Thy  look  may  in  their  hearts  endure, 
Brightening  their  dim  and  weary  way  ! 

Blest,  whom  sweet  thoughts  of  Christmas  tide 

Through  all  the  year  may  guard  and  guide, 

As  on  those  sages  journeying  smiled 

In  dreams  the  Mother  and  the  Child. 


324  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 


THE  PURIFICATION. 


"  The  time  of  the  singing  of  birds  is  come,  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle 
is  heard  in  our  land." 


"What  buds,  what  fragrant  flowers  are  here 
Not  yet  are  Christmas  garlands  sere, 
The  stern  bleak  months  that  lead  the  year 

Are  frowning  still, 
Yet  forth  they  come,  no  stay,  no  fear, 

And  bloom  at  will. 

Each  nodding  violet  spray  beneath 
What  troops  of  tender  nurslings  breathe, 
Close  set  as  gems  in  bridal  wreath  ! 

April's  last  day 
No  richer  gift  did  e'er  bequeath 

To  brightening  May. 


The  Purification.  325 


The  snowdrops  round  the  cottage  door 
Are  twinkling  gay  by  tens  and  more, 
The  merry  children  on  the  floor 

As  gay  within  : 
The  birds  tell  out  their  vernal  lore 

With  joyous  din. 


As  they  prevent  the  matin  prime, 

So,  might  it  seem,  sweet  nature's  chime 

Eings  out,  to  greet  the  holy  time. 

Heaven's  softest  airs 
Wait  on  the  Maid  who  now  shall  climb 

The  Temple  stairs. 


Pure  from  her  undefiled  throes, 
Her  virgin  matron  arms  inclose 
The  only  Gift  the  wide  earth  knows 

Not  all  unmeet 
For  the  dread  place  where  now  she  goes, 

His  mercy- seat. 


326  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

See  the  Redeemer  on  His  way 
Himself  to  be  redeemed  to-day  : 
In  humblest  meekness  see  her  lay 

Before  the  shrine 
Such  offerings  as  poor  matrons  pay. 

Want's  lowly  sign. 


But  soon  the  untimely  vernal  gleam 
Must  fade  away  like  morning  dream, 
And  ill  winds  blow,  and  cold  mists  stream 

On  flower  and  leaf  : 
So  with  the  glad  prophetic  dream 

Come  tones  of  grief. 


"  The  sword  shall  pierce  thy  very  soul." 
As  on  some  gay  glad  hour  might  toll 
The  funeral  knell,  or  thunders  roll 

O'er  summer  night, 
So  did  that  word  thy  joy  controul, 

Thou  Virgin  bright  ! 


Tlie  Purification.  327 

Then,  poor  and  orphan'd  though  I  prove, 
Yet  would  I  praise  Thee,  Lord,  and  love, 
And  learn  of  Mary's  spotless  Dove, 

With  moanings  meek, 
And  soft  wing  gliding  high  above, 

Thy  Face  to  seek. 


328  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 


LENT. 

"  Sanctify  a  fast.. gather  the  children,  and  those  that  suck  the  breasts." 

'Tis  said,  the  immortal  Powers  on  high 
Might  envy  Saints  on' earth,  for  they  can  die  ; 

They  for  their  Lord  may  suffer  loss  ; 
Those  but  adore,  these  taste,  the  healing  Cross. 
So  while  in  all  beside,  dear  babe,  we  pine 

For  hope  as  pure  as  thine, 
One  gift  we  have,  one  token  more  than  thou, 
With  choice  of  heart  beneath  the  Saviour's  yoke  to  bow. 

No  deep  of  joy  to  thee  is  lost 
From  Christmas,  Easter,  or  bright  Pentecost  : 

No  memory-cloud  in  air,  to  dim 
The  unfolding  heavens,  or  mar  the  Seraphs'  hymn. 


Lent.  329' 

The  gladsome  days  are  thine  :  to  us  are  sent 

The  wan  soft  gleams  of  Lent, 
The  kindly  waters  from  the  heavens  above, 
From  earth  to  be  exhal'd  in  dews  of  tearful  love. 

Our  portion  in  Christ's  awful  year, 
Not  thine,  is  Lent  :  and  yet  He  calls  thee  near. 

Come,  spotless  one,  He  seems  to  say, 
Come  with  thy  pure  white  robe,  and  kneel  to-day 
Beside  the  fallen  and  dehTd,  and  learn 

How  keen  the  fires  must  burn 
Of  the  dread  Spirit,  purging  contrite  hearts 
With  penitential  pains,  Truth  in  the  inward  parts. 

Oft  have  we  mark'd  thy  wistful  eye 
Fix'd  upon  ours  when  evil  news  came  nigh, 

As  who  should  say,  "  My  dreams  are  bright, 
"  Why  should  the  cloud  of  woe  on  thee  alight  ?" 
Then  sweeter  grew  thy  smile,  thy  soft  caress 

Would  closer  seem  to  press, 
And  for  the  woe,  to  thee  yet  unreveal'd, 
Pure  balm  of  kindly  hope  thou  didst  unknowing  yield. 


330  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

So  be  it  now  :  the  secret  dark 
Of  wasting  sin  here  in  God's  awful  ark 

In  mercy  may  He  keep  from  thee, 
Yet  be  thou  near,  our  penance-hour  to  see, 
Our  penance-hour  to  see,  and  deeply  thrill 

At  sense  of  unknown  ill. 
Thou  look'st  an  Angel  :  be  thy  presence  found 
Like  a  bright  Angel's  here,  guarding  the  holy  ground. 

Oh  much  we  need  a  loving  spell, 
To  scare  away  the  Powers  unclean  and  fell, 

Whom  we  too  oft  have  tempted  nigh, 
To  bind  our  burden,  dim  our  upward  eye. 
Thou  from  the  Font  art  fresh  and  undefiled. 

O  surely,  happy  child, 
More  than  angelic  power  is  where  thou  art, 
More  than  angelic  love,  to  melt  the  cold  dry  heart. 


Holy  Seasons  and  Days.  331 


7. 


EASTER  EVE. 


"  It  is  good  that  a  man  should  both  hope  and  quietly  wait  for  the  salva- 
tion of  the  Lord." 


The  Primroses  with  kindly  gleam 

Are  looking  out  from  bower  and  brake  : 

As  bright  and  quiet  all  things  seem 
As  if  no  heart  on  earth  could  ache. 

Yet  He,  the  Sun  who  yester  even 
Set  in  that  wild  tempestuous  gloom, 

When  graves  flew  wide,  and  rocks  were  riven, 
Still  lingers  in  the  dreary  tomb. 

Nor  blame  our  peace  :  for  He  will  rise, 
His  veil  for  evermore  withdrawn. 

O  never  yet  shone  vernal  skies 
So  pure,  as  shall  to-morrow  dawn. 


332  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Tis  in  that  faith  the  flowers  of  Earth 
Their  very  best  make  speed  to  wear, 

And  e'en  the  funeral  mound  gives  birth 
To  wild  thyme  fresh  and  violets  fair. 

Stoop,  little  child,  nor  fear  to  kiss 
The  green  buds  on  this  bed  of  death. 

Thou  hast  thy  first  baptismal  bliss, 

Like  new-born  babe's,  thy  fragrant  breath. 

Thy  fragrant  breath  with  this  sweet  air 
From  briar  and  turf  may  duly  blend  : 

But  keep  it  pure  with  Fast  and  Prayer, 
Come  early  near,  and  lowly  bend. 


Holy  Seasons  and  Days.  333 


EASTER-DAY. 

"  I  found  Him  whom  my  soul  loveth  :  I  held  Him,  and  would  not  let 
Him  go." 

'Twas  at  the  matin  hour,  early  before  the  dawn, 

The  prison-doors  flew  open,  the  bolts  of  death  were 

drawn. 
'Twas  at  the  matin  hour,  when  prayers  of  Saints  are 

strong, 
Where,    two   short   days   ago,   He   bore  the  spitting, 

wounds,  and  wrong, 
From  realms  unseen,    an   unseen   way   th'   Almighty 

Saviour  came, 
And  following  on  His  silent  steps  an  Angel  arm'd  in 

flame, 
The  stone  is  roll'd  away,  the  keepers  fainting  fall ; 
Satan's  and   Pilate's  watchmen — the   Day  has   scar'd 

them  all. 


334  Holy  Seasons  and  Days, 

The  Angel  came  full  early,  but  Christ  had  gone  before, 
The  Breath  of  Life,   the  Living  Soul,  had  breath'd 

itself  once  more 
Into  the  sacred  Body  that  slumber'd  in  the  tomb, 
As  still  and  lowly,  as  erewhile  in  th'  undefined  womb. 
And  surely  not  in  folds  so  bright  the  spotless  winding 

sheet 
Inwrapt  Him,    nor  such  fragrance  pour'd  the  myrrh 

and  aloes  sweet, 
As  when  in  that  chaste  Bosom,  His  awful  bed,  He  lay, 
And   Mary's  prayer   around  Him  rose,  like   incense, 

night  and  day. 

And  even  as  when  her  hour  was  come,  He  left  His 

Mother  mild 
A  royal  Virgin  evermore,  heavenly  and  undenTd, 
So  left  the  glorious  Body  the  rock  it  slumber'd  on, 
And  spirit-like  in  silence  past,  nor  touch'd  the  sealed 

stone. 
The  Angel  came  full  early,  but  Christ  had  gone  before, 
Not  for  Himself,  but  for  His  Saints,  is  burst  the  prison 

door, 


Easter-Day.  335 

That  penitents  who  bring  Him  tears  and  perfume  of 

good  deeds 
May  for  His  glory  school  their  eyes,   watching  His 

funeral  weeds. 

They  who  have  sinn'd,  though  much  they  love, — -they 

who  have  thrice  denied, — 
'Tis  meet  that  they  awhile  beneath  the  garb  of  glory 

hide 
A  shred  of  jEsrs'  grave-clothes,  such  robes  as  hermits 

weave  ; — 
But  Virgin  Love  needs  only  to  behold,  rejoice,  believe. 
Dearest,  be  thine  such  portion  :  yet  even  so,  in  still 
And  humble  guise  draw  nigh  :  such  is  thy  Saviour's 

will. 
Stoop  lowly  o'er  His  traces  dim,  and  of  His  Angels 

learn 
Where  face  to  face  He  will   be   met,  and  for   that 

greeting  yearn. 

Thou  know'st  He  died  not  for  Himself,  nor  for  Himself 

arose, 
Millions  of  souls  were  in  His  Heart,  and  thee  for  one 

He  chose. 


336  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Upon  the  palms  of  His  pierc'd  Hands  engraven  was 

thy  name, 
He  for  thy  cleansing  had  prepar'd  His  water  and  His 

flame. 
Sure  thou  with  Him  art  risen  :  and  now  with  Him 

thou  must  go  forth, 
And  He  will  lend  thy  sick  soul  health,  thy  strivings, 

might  and  worth. 
Early  with  Him  thou  forth  must  fare,  and  ready  make 

the  way 
For  the  descending  Paraclete,  the  third  hour  of  the  day. 

He  veil'd  His  awful  footsteps,  our  all-subduing  Lord, 
Until  the  Blessed  Magdalene  beheld  Him  and  ador'd. 
But  through  the  veil  the  Spouse  may  see,  for  her  heart 

is  as  His  own, 
That  to  His  Mother  or  by  sight  or  touch  He  made 

Him  known. 
And  even  as  from  His  manger  bed  He  gave  her  His 

first  smile, 
So  now,  while  Seraphs  wait,  He  talks  apart  with  her 

awhile  ; 


Easter-Day.  337 

That  thou  of  all  the  forms,  which  to  thee  His  image 

wear, 
Might'st  own  thy  parents  first,  with  thy  prime  of  loving 

care. 

And  when  that  first  spring-flower  of  love  is  gather'd, 

be  thou  seen 
Full  soon  with  mourning  Peter,  and  bereaved  Mag- 
dalene, 
And  meet  with  looks  of  soothing  cheer  the  women  on 

their  way 
To  find  the  Lord,  nor  from  beside  His  musing  comrades 

stray. 
To  Emmaus  see  thou  lose  not  the  narrow  path  ;  for 

there 
With  open  face  He  tarries,  to  give  thee  Angels'  fare. 
Where  all  His  Saints  assemble,  make  haste  ere  twilight 

cease, 
His  Easter  blessing  to  receive,  and  so  lie   down  in 

peace. 


338  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 


WHITSUN  EVE. 

"  O  my  Dove,  that  art  in  the  clefts  of  the  Rock, let  me  hear  thy  voice." 

Well  fare  the  Sage,  whose  dreams  of  old 
Would  every  cradle  fain  enfold 
In  evening  clouds  of  softest  sound, 
Slow  settling  ear  and  heart  around, 
Then  with  the  breeze  at  morning  prime 
Would  mingle  some  heart -thrilling  chime, 
Some  Dorian  movement,  bold  or  grave, 
Such  as  in  inmost  soul  they  crave, 
Who,  when  the  battles  of  the  Lord  are  fought, 
Shrink    from    their    own    frail    hearts,    else    fearing 
nought. 


JVTiitsun  Eve.  339 

Such  strains  have  I  desired  erewhile, 

When  haply,  with  half-pitying  smile, 

One  of  the  attendant  Spirits  kind, 

Who  float  unseen  on  wave  or  wind, 

Might  to  another  say,  "  Behold 

The  dimly  eyed  and  narrow-souled  ! 

He  longs  for  music  in  the  morn, 

Nor  heeds  the  lark's  unwearied  horn. 
He  finds  at  eve  no  soothing  lullaby, 
Though   west  winds   stir,    and   whispering  pines  are 
nigh." 

0  heavenly  Wisdom,  strong  and  sweet, 

How  dost  thou  tune  thy  lyre,  to  meet 

The  wakening  or  half-dreaming  cares 

Of  souls  whom  Love  for  Joy  prepares  ! 

How  do  wild  Nature's  chords,  by  thee 

Combined  in  varying  melody, 

Make  tunes  for  holy  times  !  e'en  now, 

From  underneath  the  fragrant  bough 
In  notes  of  hopeful  warning  the  fair  Dove 
Gives  token  of  the  approaching  morn  of  love. 


340  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Soft  are  her  tones  ;  for  He  draws  nigh, 
Who  moveth  all  things  quietly  : 
Yet  grave  and  deep  ;  for  to  His  sight 
Heaven's  secrets  are  imdazzling  light  : 
Content  ;  for  He  on  healing  wings 
The  promise  of  the  Father  brings  : 
And  Comfort  is  His  name  ;  yet  so 
That  in  His  promptings  here  below 
A  wistful  uncomplaining  sadness  still 
Must  deeply  blend  with  Joy's  adoring  thrill. 


As  yet  we  but  our  vigil  hold, 
Not  yet  the  Whitsun  flowers  unfold 
Their  full  bright  splendours.     In  the  sky 
The  third  hour's  sun  must  ride  full  high, 
Ere  to  the  holy  glorious  room 
The  fires  of  New- Creation  come, 
Ere  on  weak  hearts,  though  willing,  fall 
The  rushing  mighty  wind,  in  all 
The  power  of  its  dread  harmony,  and  win, 
Ne'er  to  die  down,  true  echoes  from  within. 


WliUsun  Eve.  341 

O  loving  Spirit,  gently  lay 

Thine  arm  on  ours  when  we  would  stray  ! 

Prepare  us  with  Thy  warnings  sweet, 

Us  and  our  little  ones,  to  greet 

Thy  visitations  dread  and  dear  ! 

Grant  us,  when  holy  times  are  near, 

In  twilight  or  of  morn  or  eve, 

Thy  dove-like  whisperings  to  receive, 
And  own  them  kindlier  for  the  plaintive  mood, 
That  breathes  of  contrite  Love,  mild  Hope,  and  Joy 
subdued. 


342  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 


10. 


WHITSUNDAY. 


"  The  Promise  is  unto  you  and  to  your  children." 

One  the  descending  Flame, 
But  many  were  the  tongues  of  fire  ; 

From  one  bright  Heaven  they  came, 
But  here  and  there  in  many  a  spire, 
In  many  a  living  line  they  sped 
To  rest  on  each  anointed  head. 
There,  as  yon  stars  in  clearest  deep  of  night, 
The  glory-crowns  shone  out  in  many-coloured  light. 

One  the  dread  rushing  Wind, 
But  many  were  the  tones  of  praise, 

Love  guiding  each  to  find 
His  way  in  Music's  awful  maze. 


Whitsunday.  343 

Many  the  tongues,  the  theme  was  one, 

The  glory  of  th'  Incarnate  Son, 
How  He  was  born,  how  died,  how  reigns  in  Heaven, 
And  how  His  Spirit  now  to  His  new-born  is  given. 

Joined  in  that  choral  cry 
Were  all  estates,  all  tribes  of  earth  : 

Only  sweet  Infancy 
Seemed  silent  in  the  adoring  mirth. 
Mothers  and  maidens  there  behold 
The  Maiden  Mother  :  young  and  old 
On  Apostolic  thrones  with  joy  discern 
Both  fresh  and  faded  forms,  skill'd  for  all  hearts  to 
yearn. 

Widows  from  Galilee, 
Levites  are  there,  and  elders  sage 

Of  high  and  low  degree, 
But  nought  we  read  of  that  sweet  age 
Which  in  His  strong  embrace  He  took, 
And  sealed  it  safe,  by  word  and  look, 
From  Earth's  foul  dews,  and  withering  airs  of  Hell  : 
The  Pentecostal  chant  no  infant  warblings  swell. 


344  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Nay,  but  she  worships  here, 
Whom  still  the  Church  in  memory  sees 

(O  thought  to  mothers  dear) 
Before  her  Babe  on  bended  knees, 
Or  rapt,  with  fond  adoring  eye, 
In  her  sweet  nursing  ministry. — 
How  in  Christ's  Anthem  fails  the  children's  part, 
While  Mary  bears  Him  throned  in  her  maternal  heart  ? 

Hear  too  that  Shepherd's  voice, 
Whom  o'er  His  lambs  the  Saviour  set 

By  words  of  awful  choice, 
When  on  the  shore  His  Saints  He  met. 
Blest  Peter  shows  the  key  of  Heaven, 
And  speaks  the  grace  to  infants  given  :  - 
"  Yours  is  the  Promise,  and  your  babes',  and  all, 
Whom  from  all  lands  afar  the  Lord  our  God  shall 
call." 


Holy  Seasons  and  Days.  345 


11. 


OCTAVES  OF  FESTIVALS. 

i(  Blessed  are  the  people  that  know  the  joyful  sound." 

Even  as  the  close  of  some  grave  melody, 
Hovering  and  lingering  in  the  moon's  still  ray, 
Breathes  o'er  arid  o'er,  reviving  ere  they  die, 
The  notes  that  are  the  soul  of  the  sweet  lay, 
And  hearts  that  own  the  music,  loitering  near, 
Drink  the  loved  cadence  with  enchanted  ear  ; 

So  the  bright  holy  days,  as  one  by  one 
They  pass,  a  glorious  week  behind  them  draw. 
Xor  will  their  echo  cease  till  they  outrun 
Their  Octave  :  such  is  heavenly  Music's  law. 
Xor  will  Faith's  ear  grow  weary  of  the  strain, 
But  long  for  the  glad  note  to  sound  again. 


346  Holy  Seasons  and  Days. 

Whether  the  tones  were  pastoral,  warbled  low 

On  Christmas  Eve,  but  ere  the  bright  sun  rise, 

From  thousand  Seraphs  in  harmonious  flow 

O'er  spreading  earth  new-born  and  gladdened  skies  : 

Or  in  high  triumph  from  beside  the  tomb 

The  sudden  anthem  pierced  the  Paschal  gloom  : 

Or  cloudlike  soared  the  long-drawn  melody, 
Still  upward  gliding  where  the  Lord  had  gone  : 
Or  in  all  tongues  the*  Pentecostal  cry- 
Rose  from  all  lands  in  perfect  unison  : — 
For  each  and  all,  seven  happy  nights  and  days, 
The  Church  untiring  holds  her  note  of  praise. 

For  each  and  all,  the  eighth  mysterious  morn 
Doth  of  the  first  tell  o'er  the  perfect  tale. 
Lo,  from  Heaven's  deep  again  the  lays  are  borne 
That  seem'd  for  ever  past  behind  the  veil. 
(For  Thy  dread  Hours,  thou  awful  Trinity, 
Are  but  the  Whit  sun  airs,  new  set  on  high.) 

'Tis  only  our  dull  hearts  that  tire  so  soon 

Of  Christ's  repeated  call  ;  while  they  in  Heaven, 

Unwearied  basking  in  the  eternal  noon, 

Still  sound  the  note,  by  the  first  Seraph  given, 


Octaves  of  Festivals.  347 

What  time  the  Morning  Stars  around  their  King 
Began  for  evermore  to  shine  and  sing. 

And  you,  ye  gentle  babes,  true  image  here 
Of  such  as  walk  in  white  before  the  Throne, 
Ye  weary  not  of  Love,  how  oft  soe'er 
Her  yearnings  she  repeat  in  unchanged  tone. 
To  tale  familiar,  to  remembered  strain, 
To  frolic  ten  times  tried,  ye  cry,  Again. 

How  have  I  seen  you,  when  the  impleading  time 

Came  for  some  kindly  guest  to  pass  away, 

Cling  round  his  skirts  !  how  marked  the  playful  chime 

Of  earnest  voices,  pledged  to  make  him  stay  ! 

O  deeply  sink,  and  with  a  tearful  spell, 

The  memories  of  such  welcome  and  farewell. 

Nor  wants  in  elder  love  the  like  soft  charm. 
The  Mother  tires  not  of  one  little  voice, 
Even  as  she  fain  all  day  with  patient  arm 
Would  bear  one  burthen.     O  frail  heart,  rejoice  ! 
Love  trains  thee  now  by  repetition  sweet 
The  unwasting  and  unvarying  bliss  to  greet. 


[The  following  lines,  are  subjoined,  as  falling  in  with  the 
plan  of  the  work,  though  composed  too  late  for  insertion  in 
their  proper  place.  For  the  leading  idea  in  them,  the 
author  is  indebted  to  a  friend,  the  writer  of  the  stanzas  in 
p.  19,  entitled  ■■  The  First  Smile."] 


Children's  Troubles.  349 


V.     13. 


LANGUOR. 


"  There  is  joy  in  Heaven  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth,  more  than  over 
ninety  and  nine  just  persons,  that  need  no  repentance." 

Come,  and  with  us  by  summer  seas 
The  revel  hold  of  Mirth  and  Ease. 
Together  now,  and  now  apart, 
Three  happy  sprites,  we  glide  and  dart 
O'er  rock  and  sand,  as  free  and  bright 
As  w>aves  that  leap  in  morning  light  ; — 
Or  mark  in  playful  pensiveness 
How  fast  the  evening  clouds  undress 
O'er  gleaming  waters  far  away, 
And  by  the  tir'd  Sun  gently  lay 
Their  robes  of  glory,  to  be  worn 
More  gorgeous  with  returning  morn. 
There,  and  where'er  our  fancies  roam, 
Our  trusting  hearts  are  still  at  home, 


350  Children's  Troubles. 

For  at  our  side  we  feel 
Our  father's  smile,  our  mother's  glance. 
Say,  can  this  earth  a  loving  trance 

Of  deeper  bliss  reveal  ? 

Yes  :  from  the  shore  with  us  return, 
And  thou  a  deeper  bliss  shalt  learn. 
Just  as  the  mounting  sun  hath  drawn 
Warm  fragrance  from  the  thymy  lawn, 
Come  to  our  cottage  home,  and  see 
If  aught  of  sprightly,  fresh,  and  free, 
With  the  calm  sweetness  may  compare 
Of  the  pale  form  half  slumbering  there, 
Our  little  sister,  late  as  gay 
As  sea-lark  drench'd  in  ocean  spray, ' 
Now  from  her  couch  of  languor  freed 
One  hour  upon  soft  air  to  feed. 
O  gently  tread,  and  mildly  gaze, 
HI  may  she  brook  our  bolder  ways  ; 

The  babe  who  cannot  speak 
Tempers,  to  her,  his  strong  caress  ; 
Lightly  the  small  soft  fingers  press 

The  wan  and  wearied  cheek. 


Languor.  351 

And  if  in  festive  hour,  beside 

The  laughing  waves  and  tuneful  tide, 

Parental  eyes  for  joy  grow  dim. 

What  notes  may  trace  the  heart's  deep  hymn, 

In  silence  mingling  with  the  breath 

Of  child  by  prayer  recall'd  from  death, 

Or  with  the  pulse's  healthier  chime 

In  praise  melodious  keeping  time  ? 

O,  when  its  flower  seems  fain  to  die, 

The  full  heart  grudges  smile  or  sigh 

To  aught  beside,  though  fair  and  dear. 

Like  a  bruis'd  leaf,  at  touch  of  Fear 

Its  hidden  fragrance  Love  gives  out. 

Therefore,  this  one  dear  couch  about 

We  linger  hour  by  hour. 
The  love  that  each  to  each  we  bear, 
All  treasures  of  endearing  care, 

Into  her  lap  we  pour. 

Type  of  that  holiest  Family, 
When  smitten  souls,  at  point  to  die, 
Come  darkling  home,  prepar'd  to  wait 
In  doubt  and  dimness  by  the  gate. 


352  Children's  Troubles. 

Then  far  along  the  mournful  way 

Paternal  Love  speeds  out,  to  say 

The  words  of  welcome  ;  Angels  bear 

The  robe,  sweet  pledge  of  pardoning  care  ; 

And  as  he  daily  seeks  aright 

His  lowly  station  in  their  sight, 

They  watch  th'  all-ruling  Eye,  for  leave 

Some  flower  of  Paradise  to  give, 

Bid  amaranth  odours  round  him  float, 

Or  breathe  into  his  ear  one  note 

Of  that  high  loving  strain, 
Which  rings  from  all  the  harps  of  Heaven, 
When  from  the  Shrine  the  word  is  given, 

"  The  dead  soul  lives  again." 

0,  if  the  Powers  and  Thrones  above 
Hover  with  crowns  of  joy  and  love, 
Ungrudg'd,  unsparing,  over  brows 
That  mourn  in  dust  their  broken  vows, 
Rather  than  where  the  Saints  are  seen 
Each  reigning  in  his  place  serene  : — 
If  in  Love's  earthly  home  and  bower 
The  mournful  or  the  dangerous  hour 


Languor.  353 

Unblam'd  each  prayer  and  longing  guides 

To  the  one  couch  where  Pain  abides  : — 

He  who  is  Love,  and  owns  Love's  Name, 

Is  in  His  ocean  springs  the  same 

As  in  each  little  murmuring  rill 

That  cheers  soft  mead  or  pastoral  hill  : 

Brighter  the  joy,  be  sure, 
Before  Him,  where  one  sinner  weeps, 
Than  where,  in  Heaven's  unchanging  deeps, 

A  thousand  orbs  endure. 


a  a 


INDEX  OF  FIRST  LINES. 

Page 

A  Christian  child  in  pain  .         .         .         .62 

A  fragment  of  a  rainbow  bright  ...  64 
A  holy  home,  young  Saint,  is  thine  .  .  .122 
Alas  !  that  e'er  the  pangs  of  birth  .  .  .  6Q 
All  gorgeous  hues  are  in  the  pure  white  beam  .  276 
Alone,  apart  from  Mother  dear  .         .         .136 

Behold,  athwart  our  woodland  nest    .  .         .      252 

Behold  me,  Lord,  a  worthless  Gibeonite  .         .  228 

Behold  the  treasure  of  the  nest          .  .         .192 

But  what  if  chrisoro  robes  be  sin-defiled  .         .  282 

Christ  before  thy  door  is  waiting                .         .  294 

Christian  Child,  whoe'er  thou  be           ...  230 

Come  and  with  us  by  summer  seas             .         .  348 

Come  hear  with  duteous  mind      ....  259 

Come  take  a  woodland  walk  with  me  .  .  205 
Come,  ye  little  revellers  gay         .         .         .         .169 

Comrades,  haste  ;  the  tents'  tall  shading            .  222 


INDEX   OF    FIRST    LINES. 


Page 

Speed  on,  ye  happy  Sunday  hours,  O  speed  .  278 
Sweet  maiden,  for  so  calm  a  life  .         .         .155 

Tear  not  away  the  veil,  dear  friend  .  .  .  140 
Tears  are  of  Nature's  best,  they  say  .         .       132 

Tears  from  the  birth  the  doom  must  be  .  .19 
Tell  me  now  thy  morning  dream       ...  8 

The  cares,  the  loves  of  parents  fond  .  .  .78 
The  Church  is  one  wide  harvest-field  .  .  200 
The  duteous  sun  hath  ceased  to  keep  .  .  .311 
The  glorious  sun  at  morn  .         .         .         .239 

The  Lord,  the  all  gracious,  hides  not  all  His  ire  .  73 
The  Lord  who  lends  His  creatures  all  .  .195 
The  May  winds  gently  lift  the  willow  leaves  .  182 
The  Powers  of  ill  have  mysteries  of  their  own  117 
The  primroses  with  kindly  gleam  .         .         .331 

There  is  no  grief  that  ever  wasted  man  .  .  246 
The  scourge  in  hand  of  God  or  man  .  .  .158 
The  shepherd  boy  lies  on  the  hill  .  .  .  197 
The  twelve  holy  men  .  .  .  .  .266 
The  wedding  guests  are  met  ....  273 
The  western  sky  is  glowing  yet  .         .         .28 

They  talk  of  wells  in  caverns  deep  .         .       185 

This  is  the  portal  of  the  dead  ....  256 
Thou  makest  me  jealous,  infant  dear         .         .         49 


INDEX   OF    FIRST    LINES. 

Page 

Thou  who  didst  choose  thine  awful  room      .  .318 

Thou  who  with  eye  too  sad  and  wan         .         .  162 

'Tis  said,  th'  immortal  Powers  on  high          .  .  328 

'Twas  at  the  matin  hour            ....  333 

Wake  me  to-night,  my  mother  dear  .         .       299 

Weary  soul,  and  burthened  sore  .         .         .89 

Well  fare  the  sage,  whose  dream  of  old  .  .  338 
Well  may  I  brook  the  lash  of  scorn  or  woe  .  .128 
What  buds,  what  fragrant  flowers  are  here  .  324 
What  is  the  Church,  and  what  ami?  .         .  209 

What  is  the  joy  the  young  lambs  know  ?  .190 

What  is  this  sudden  thrill  .....  285 
What  is  this  cloud  upon  thy  brow  .  .  .106 
What  purer  brighter  sight  on  earth,  than  when  .  18 
What  time  the  Saviour  spread  His  feast  .  .  243 
What  wouldst  Thou  have  me  do,  0  Lord  .  .  84 
Whence  is  the  mighty  grace  ....  42 
When  heart  and  head  are  both  o'erflowing  .  .143 
When  Heaven  in  mercy  gives  thy  prayers  return  237 
When  holy  books,  when  loving  friends  .         .108 

When  mortals  praise  thee,  hide  thine  eyes  .  104 
When  travail  hours  are  spent  and  o'er  .         .23 

Where  are  the  homes  of  Paschal  mirth  .  .  82 
Where  is  the  brow  to  bear  in  mortal  sight    .         .69 


INDEX   OF    FIRST    LINES. 

Page 

Where  is  the  mark  to  Jesus  known  .         .         15 

While  snows  even  from  the  mild  south-west  .     31 

Who  for  the  like  of  me  will  care  .  .  .  235 
WTio  may  the  wondrous  birth  declare  .         .4 

Why  of  all  the  woodland  treasures  .  .  .  207 
Why  deck  the  high  cathedral  roof  .  .  .  262 
Why  should  we  grudge  the  hour  and  home  of 

prayer 260 

Why  so  stately,  maiden  fair  .  .  .  .  .  45 
Within  a  reverend  minster  have  I  stood  .  .  280 
With  joy  the  guardian  Angel  sees    ...         80 

Ye  children  that  on  Jesus  wait  .         .         .       172 

Ye  who  wait  in  wistful  gaze         .         .         .         .36 


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v  I 


